#023: rubatosis

n. – the unsettling awareness of your heartbeat, whose tenuous muscular throbbing feels less like a metronome than a nervous ditty your heart is tapping to itself, the kind that people compulsively hum or sing while walking in complete darkness, as if to casually remind the outside world, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. [x]

we are constantly moving together and apart
in cyclical misery – this has gone on for
days and months and years but somehow
we’re too caught up in the now to notice

and now i look into your eyes
(or am i only seeing the reflection of mine?)
and i see the realization cracking through
like the burning trails of dawn’s beginning

the one-two step of this dance
is starting to feel painfully choreographed
and i am willing my feet to fall out of place
but the muscle memory has been carved in too deep

can we only stop when one of us falls
when our hands refuse to remain entwined
and our bodies are weary, stretched thin?

the clock strikes twelve and like cinderella –
i bolt, but without leaving you
a shoe or a life buoy or breadcrumbs to
follow me out into the night

x Natasha


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