the dance
the dancer on her lines
a twist, a turn
now alive
the puppet
the master
the hand on the strings
who makes us dance
who makes us sing
our word
one word
in treachery lies
this word
my word
in strings is tied
a pull
a tug
and I am gone
I dance
I leap
for far too long
~R. Harder
Friday, February 6, 2009
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