A little word-dance

When I cannot dance with my body

I dance with my pen across the page

Fluid. My heart pounds

Smooth, the motion. Like a cello the movement

Sings. Whines. Jumps. Spikes

I try to keep up and follow

The words, like music

Flow through me

I am but an instrument of their design

A mere mouth for them to move through

They play me like a passionate fool

Exposed for all the world to see.

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