The Dove

Dancer in a darkened room,
Tobacco, Marijuana, sweat, and booze.
Magic shakes the walls to a beat calling you home.

Dancer forgetting the how's, when's, why's.
Dancing to nowhere with no one.
Dancing, examining with in-turned eyes
The creases in your brain.

And at once your mind is in the sea,
melded tight to ocean tides,
and currents pull you deep.
Your salt-stung eyes take in
the sea's beginning and its end.
But beyond, you cannot know.

Is there a shore beyond the water deep?
A shore to rest, to stand, to sleep.

You may not know,
For while you dance, you do not dance for answers.
And if you were, I would not give them, still.

You are a new-born dove drifted off to sea
And far away, away with me.

And I will never let you know
that wings are meant for flying,
for you would fly
away, away and free.
So dance, my Dove, instead, with me.