The Dancer Dancing for dollars over whistles and hollers,showing skin from her head to her toes –she was Friday night’s rage on a drab smoky stage,tucking bills in the band of her hose. The job was no treasure and it brought her no pleasure,only tips...
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Dancer Stories
She's shifting the bedrockShe's dancing tectonicAnd now I am drowningIn the delugeStruggling to get to the surfaceFighting through the debris of my heart.