Not first dance

It starts when the thought firms. A bit hazy at first. A silhouette in the fog. The shape of it apparent, the edges not yet formed. And it lingers. And you tell yourself you are stronger, tonight. You tell yourself, you are better than it tonight. You tell yourself that your really not even thinking about it all. Till the silhouette steps out of the fog. And it’s right in front of you. Stinking and sweating and full of callouses and scars. And then, even then, you tell yourself it will be ok, it’s no big deal. Tell yourself even if it does happen the earth will still spin, and tomorrow will still happen, and you have the whole rest of the week to be better. So shake it’s outstretched hands. Kiss it’s wretched lips full of worm holes and larva. Look it straight in the eyes, sockets filled with flame. You hug its body that’s all bones and spurs, put on your head it’s chest that’s cold as concrete and listen for a heartbeat, a pulse, a rythm of life that is not there. Not tonight. Not ever. And In it’s embrace you dance, slowly, into the darkness.