Solo Suite

A tree trained on mycelium

Makes do with strings.

The grove outside lifts limbs in triple time.

 

A woman's wild steps won't be excused

Just because she's dancing with her husband.

 

It's always crowded in a solo suite.

 

You'll never be first in line.

It doesn't matter.

Stretch your hand, you'll find your partner.

 

One counts steps, one calls the spirit,

But dance won't turn into debate.

 

There's always room inside a solo suite.

 

 

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