Dazzle of dances

  The floors and fears

  I used to entertain

  are now my playground.

  Watch me spin and dip,

  smile brighter than Mom’s new china.

  My partner and I compete like tigers,

  stripes dazzling

  the carefully watching forest and fields.

  Almost every Tuesday you’ll find me there,

  flying to country swing,

  moving my hips like Latinos do—It’s all in the knees.

  Maybe I’ll find him here, maybe the next partner

  who moves in time with me,

  teeth gleaming, hair shining. I dance

  like others breathe, taking courage from the bass

  sauntering through the tiles underfoot,

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  trembling like the world before a major earthquake.

  Three, four, dip. Swing me right, rip me back in

  like a yoyo. Behind, in front.

  One two three four, jump, drop

  with force like a bullet. The dazzle of dance

  dulls the damage of the dreary,

  hoping for a love that lasts longer than three minutes.

  Skipper school

  Shipshape,

  if only the boards

  stopped inviting water through

  for a drink and a leisurely chat.

  If only the windows would open enough

  to let the sun’s reflection through.

  If only the sails didn’t tear

  at every breath of wind.

  Pound the hammer again,

  straighten nails sharper than cruel tongues.

  Rip the board again, fasten the floors

  tighter than the cracks between doors and doorways.

  Captain to one,

  one helm gently spinning,

  one chair cold and open.

  Comfort in redundancy.

  But my heart argues with the mind—the Captain makes the voyage.

  The Captain fears the voyage.

  The Captain voyages through fears.

  Looking for you.