We Might Be Monsters
petite ballerinas bowed to a bar.
Their origami limbs held
the poise of tight creases,
a row of knees un-sprung.
When you pulled the wheel toward them
the car swerved and you laughed,
not cruelly, but
I was happy when they moved away.
A turn of heads, simultaneous;
a full-hand slap, a snap—
Like beige coats
gaining momentum, their bodies
a blare of stoppered yells
set careening over the grass.
What did you want from them?
The feel of blood in slender veins,
a flare of pulses that would quicken
under your firm palm?
Then, I’ll give you this:
when they leapt through the fields
it was me who wanted to unravel
like a streamer
tethered to their legs.
To show you I too know how
to cock my body, fold my limbs
in a graceful arch
like these animals
who drape themselves
over gravity
to lure it, to trick it
into letting them bend
so far away from us.