I Want To Dance Again
I want to dance again but
my heart doesn't want to move;
such stony soil, choking any
flowers that might cry out:
"It's okay to dance, it's okay
to make your body sway in time
to some rhythm, or no rhythm, or
for any reason at all;
the fact that you exist needs
no justification."
I want to dance again, but
how can I possibly dance
in a garden where
nothing blooms?