SOLO
after Lykke Li’s “Dance, Dance, Dance”
the wind bows and the sodden
dance
feathers of the spoonbill
dance
punctuate the coyote’s mouth. a peeling
dance
of roseate. the night
I was
draped in black, caged
a dancer
in the pool of coral bells. silk slacks
all along
the edges of this humming hole.
Easy conversations
between nail and cheek.
There’s no such thing
as a river digger but without a wet knead,
I’m shy.
there’s no reason for hands.
Shy
reading beetled bark, not all poetry is penciled.
Shy
like a scattered rain, I pry, pry pry.
Natasha Mijares is an MFA candidate in Writing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. She received her BA in Creative Writing from the University of Miami. She has been published in Elysium Literary Magazine, BAOBAB, and Bear Review. She also participated in a fellowship at the New York Summer Writer’s Institute and Everglades Wilderness Writers.