a prelude to dancing under the stars…

Tonite I sport my father’s shirt.
He sees me from above.
Tonite I shall dance a mambo

for my mother. She’ll be dancing too.

Come blaze of sun or dark of shadows
Under the stars is where I’ll be. 
Looking up to them as I wear out my hips…
Sweating tears and smelling sweet.

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Author: Barak adé Soleil

creative practitioner, independent consultant and curator. making dance, performance art and theatre. working within community.

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