After John Mayer’s Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by Kailyn Bondoni
Hand on hip swaying to the beat Of the rum in our throats swimming In our heads and humming memories Over the sounds of a box fan. It’s a dance on a minefield. A waltz through this fire. Too warm to be cooled By the silly fan in the corner. You grab my hand and stitch it To yours like you’re saying That you love me, but no Words exchange. This is a dance, not a conversation. It’s not a promise I’m looking for, But the part of me that knows that Is six feet under the rum and stomach acid The dance is a stumble. It’s as much beautiful As it is mistake-Too soon too soon. We drift to the dance floor-Not ready, not set. You dip me down and let go, And I fall through the floor Kissing hollow wood, Precious empty sentiments
48
