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If I didn’t know we so well

I’d never have called.

What is it that we must trance now?

Which conversation we never shared

that  so demands we dance through

all the prepositions, posited in wonders

of about, above, beyond and through?

Below has always tripped me though.

A lover constantly up-staged in her steps

by more clever dancers until she

finally falls beneath the floor boards.

This waltz is a solo dis-en-tango

propositioned by lovers at bay;

prepositioned by her distanced withall.

Courtesy of Rob Lavinsky's archive