that's mrs. mediocrity to you

uncurl, unfurl
into a blooming dance twirl

lay soft or stare hard
but do not be afraid
to show the center of your
self
to the mirror help maid

sit in lachrymose silence
til the end of the sky
fills yours scent cloaked ears

and then dance
to the cloud colored music
you hear

the only absolute
is open

and your interpretation
is the petal spread of living
on a vine scored with rows
of hidden heart thorn

climb the ladder with care
and then jump
into being

scatter petals
shout perfume
nod your head at the coy
wary moon

uncurl, unfurl
into a blooming dance

twirl

.

.

.