Dances With Selves

April 23, 2015
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It’s in your head, the prejudice of machismo mistakes

Passed down, like table manners, father to white paper children

This is what we believe and think and do in this right way.
Eager, in their ocean, to fit with the way that fish swim,

Eschewing the pain of bad vibes and scouring glances,

Fearful of spikes from carelessly thrown harpoon words

That push in their backward direction of prejudice,

You move in their awkward manner in their right way.
Until you reveal it to yourself, unwrap who you are

Like a pass-the-parcel party game, removing layers.

Then turn to face the pains, the scrapes, the lacerations

From those who cannot bear you to be different

Skin thickens round your being, comforts the senses.

Doing and being you feels good again in your right way.
You learn that pain is a barrier to overcome

That each of us has strength to simply be, unled by shoals

That head obliviously to the narrowing net.

Ballet dancing is too tough for macho men to take
Terpsichore is not in the heads of fish who move with fish

And only we who are true to self can be sublime.


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