when i said i wanted to dance in the revolution; this wasn’t it;

guess i got tired of splitting myself; on a coin toss, i flung myself; airborne; spinning up;
spinning down; free falling to the ground only to land on my side and spin some more; around and around and around; spinning from hand to hand; indefinitely; from metamor to metamor; in this metaphor, i can’t tell; who’s hand is spinning me; whose hand is trying to dance with me; not even my own;

i can’t split myself to dance with you;

dancing in this revolution, i was a novice acrobat; balancing on a tightrope; trying to learn new tricks, and put on show for two and two; i thought it could be beautiful; dancing together; both of you wanted to be with me; just not necessarily with each other;

is it not cruel, in the face of a world on fire, we should care who’s who? is it not cruel, in the face of impending doom, we should deprive ourselves of dancing?

i know it was cruel, i expected you to choose for me; that i put you in this predicament, when you didn’t ask for it, not the revolution, nor the dance,

thank you for loving me; and wanting to dance with me; my head is tired of spinning; and body beat from falling; i’m know yours too.

we can all take a little breather now. dance free; three on ower own;