Dappled sunlight white and yellow fell
Upon my couch with pillows orange and blue,
And I resplendent in this cozy spell
Thought lightly about life and what I do.
I am one who crossed the great wide sea,
Who lives a life away from what is known.
I shrugged off comfort and complacency
And left for foreign shores and foreign towns.
In truth I did not give these musings strength
(A Sunday morning is best spent in rest)
I sent them off with tea until at length
One tiny thought sat heavy in my chest:
How have I crossed the world and lived by chance
Yet never once have I been asked to dance?
No joke! I was just sitting there, on my couch, thinking about nothing in particular, when it occurred to me that I have never been asked to dance.
I think I was asked to dance when I was in seventh grade? SEVENTH. GRADE. Oh my God, what happened? I make light of it in this sonnet, but that is ridiculous!
A small moment on screen.
A twitch of my lips.
Surprising, when a real world desire
Sees itself fulfilled in fantasy.
Amid the mayhem of choreography
The melodrama of suspense and mystery,
A single, small moment lands hardest.
A kiss, filled with chemistry,
Reaches out and plants on my own lips
A realization that I am alone.
And in the miniscule aftershock,
When blood pours into my lips until they are full,
I see the curtain settled firmly
Between the reality and the creation.
It is an aching minute of meta-consciousness,
Observing the self observing the unreal
Wishing to rend the curtain
Knowing such wishes are childish.
Thankfully the moment passes, as all do,
With a knockout punch and a flurry of bullets,
A gentle reminder that my life on the couch
Is not as bad as all that.