Dancing with a Curiosity
The day is all alive – like a fair, and the windows have something new to stare at — summoning their gaze inward for a time, their skittling eyes tracking me like white gloves across dustiness. And I am dancing with a curiosity. Dancing, dancing, sweeping moments of love and loss under cover of night, and I belong to no one — and everyone. I dance to remnants of music, whispers at every turn. Everyone dances to their own tune; that song that keeps playing in your head.
Found and remixed text From: Dickens, Charles. “Bleak House, of 265-267” iBooks Store: https://itun.es/gb/BnmVD.l