A Familiar Dance Poem by Bryan Thao Worra

I take you to dance
In your dress of blue.
Santana‟s black magic woman is playing tonight.

Swaying to the music, I wonder about your true home,
Your tangled story, your fine shelves of books.
I have an ocean of questions but a thimble of time.

Maybe The Art of War will be there.
Maybe a classic of the ancients, something curious and modern,
Written in ink dark, lustrous as your hair.

I want to turn pages tonight,
The secret histories rewritten
To remember us…

You walk away when the boun is done without a word.
I, watching like a period becoming an exclamation point,
Laugh, filled to the edge where the soul meets the body.

We, the momentary.