Dear Dance

Dear Dance. 

I miss you and the pain I self-inflict after. 

To master our marriage. 

And how we start so chaotically 

and end up fulfilled at least 

that everything had been done 

the way it should feel. 

Dear Dance, I miss our ritual.

I miss how we would create space. 

My body forming you 

every count without counting.

Identity by Tiara Mejos