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POETRY - ISSUE FOUR

Dancelord

TYLER RICHARD

where am I even now I lose count my steps
and stutter for the longing sake of intricacy

I know it's my turn and my insistence upon
the heel's clever pivot that draw my mind's nautilus

into itself.    I will unwind the shell slowly
my matted locks spilling out like tidal swells

with straight razor I shear myself and uncover
my world has wearied without me.    I must learn

its new sound to guide my bald unchoreography
my right hand once twisted with a doubled drum

I have exchanged its tanned skins for a plastic
yellow walkman.     some nights you might see

my left hand still spring into waning light
to light the cigarettes I smoke now I wear

these jeans are complex their teeth unzipped
then back by myself in hesitant loops.     my rules

of speech apply equally to my dance and if I can
I will forget them and speak out past the brink

I will surrender my tongue to the high flame
and let it ash over.    these words will scatter

smoldering seeds into the zephyr's arced breath:
"I wear my love for you like the crescent moon"





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When he finds time, Tyler Richard is a PhD student in South Asian Studies at Harvard University. 
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