Anastasia, at rest,
the dancelight is blue,
closed fist, she raises it,
thumbing her nose
“Fuck you!”
she says to evil things,
that tear through skin,
pulling out our stitches.
Our heartstrings, ripping.
Scream against
the indifferent
unfairness
of merely
existing.
But, in the dance,
there is peace,
and somewhere,
gently spinning,
Anastasia, blissful,
quiet, and grinning,
raises a hand,
beckoning…
you.
The dance will never end
as long as you can see her
leading the stars, in a trance,
there, in the quiet of the ether,
beneath a spotlight
of the warmest
blue.
©️ CG Tenpenny, 2023.
Goodbye, Stacie.
