words by dominic riccitello

dancing with edges in air
we’re twirling
with hands clasp and ashes had
riveting in our graves
running through fields of daisies
screaming in nights we had
with knives at end
of our throats 
he’s spinning in matrimony
yelling and moaning
in debonair movement
a moment in time
feigning on past relationships
to have emotion on abandoned ships
like thoughts we had
emotion we held in grasp of each other
broken by muses of ourselves in night
searching for fright in empty shelves
to tango instead of fall
we’re jazzing atop our funerals
clinging for fraud emotion
to hold ourselves together
knives were at our hips
we were dancing
but with edges at grasp
with knives met
sad songs in our foreground
emotion in the back