Dance

there is music in dark places
small places
confined
all corners and walls
gasping for air
for something to hang on to
for the words
to heal the world away
there is music here.

not the jangly kind
with crashing cymbals
and upbeat voices
three quarter time
and the beat is always wrong-
this is something
different
something you feel
rather than hear
something you see when you close your eyes
stretch your arms wide
and breathe in the bass line
the whispering snare
the low, ragged voice
keening pain into
all of the air you can taste
your fingers electric
your brainwaves kenetic
but lazy
catharsis is something like love
and you dance.