there is no eventing on
 the horizon of giving-up
(that it is what it is is never all
what is that it’s being as it is)

introverting eyes caving in on themselves
chancing no glacing just prancing 
the thumping hypnotizing soundings are
automating the syncopating bodies parts
so but we still aint dancing no mo’
we’re shattered shattering scatterings
coffling in delusioning illusionings

bumping and grinding
fabricating the heat of romancing
grinning here always looking ‘round
so enfolding in beholding 
own entrancing
while raising our hands
so like the roof is rising up
bodies bleeding tatoos 
is our democratizing proof
of this serpentining ruse  

cocooning here 
in a legislating somebody 
so not believing we’re dancing
right here on the cusp
of never ever seen being no more 

Copyright © 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri