I wrote a letter to a friend today.
It had roses on it.
The kind I would like to have
in my garden someday,
frothing pinkishly on trellises,
peeking with red flouncy eyes
through the windows of my bedroom.
Temptation leaning on the sill
making eyes at me.
In the letter I wrote her a poem,
not mine. But it reminded me
“As long as you are dancing, you can
break the rules.
Sometimes breaking the rules is just
extending the rules.
Sometimes there are no rules.”
And I see her dancing
as she always does,
with a paintbrush in her hand,
a smile trembling on her lips,
and music rolling off her hips.
Dancing, dancing deep into the night,
breaking all the rules.