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?