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