I might burst.
I might burst
or collapse in on myself.
I can’t.
I won’t.
I might swing on the next soul that comes near me.
I might cuss out the next spirit that got a word for me.
I’m. trying. to breathe.
My breath keeps catching
on my own lips.
My throat is tight,
and whatever I manage to speak
is about to come for the whole word with me in it.
Oh. Well.
But...you probably know I’m lying.
I know I’m lying.
I’m gripping myself as tight as possible,
balancing, just barely,
balancing.
Yes, I’m calm.
Or I’m calming down, yes.
Cause I’m laying all my cares down
and drowning my voice out with
Otis Redding’s and Marvin Gaye’s.
I’m filling all the noise
with basslines and piano riffs.
I’m dancing like somebody’s grandma
in the bedroom
all by myself
funking up that two-step,
mixing it and jiving it,
sweating and singing,
thighs burning.
Yes.
Yes!
Cause that shit makes me feel good.
And my chest just opens up
when I snap my fingers
and throw my arms out,
bounce my shoulders,
turn my hips,
twist my feet.
Stomping and clapping.
And I feel my soul is on fire
and I’m fit to bursting.
I might just explode,
and my mind is racing
with how much I love this song
and all the people I’ll dance with before I die
and how silly it was to be too shy
to groove
knowing good and well I loved dancing
So yes, I’m dancing in the mirror
like I got Soul Train lines by my side,
like I got me by my side,
like I trust myself to survive,
like I feel good dancing with me.
Get it, ‘Licia, get it.
