#227 (dancing debt)

two wings

on your shoulderblades

when you told me I was

the only beautiful dancer at the club

though you couldn’t see

I was dancing for my life

yet you saw me

eyes closed, sixteen years

my face a battlefield

of hormones

and emotional struggle

the cigarettes always

burnt out too soon

the bottles emptied in a flash

hot metal plates

drilled into concrete

became my launching pad

when your smile

shot me beyond  the moon

once upon a time

in a smoky cellar


you still owe me a fuck

I’ll never collect

and let this memory

be my compensation


© Matthias Geh, 18th March 2018




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