At Night
Afterwards, we went to a Dance. All
leg kicks and colour we
joined in making shapes so
fresh they were as yet unnamed.
We patted hands, moving
in straight lines of black,
with waves of orange and
multi-greens either side
We created that
casual rainbow, glimpsing
at those purple dots
below us as we twirled
up beyond the ceiling.
A ballet pump glided back down
to the floor, accidentally dropped
by neither one of us.
Kat Franceska is twenty-three. She is the proud owner of a BA(Hons) Fine Art with First Class Hons. Credits include The Cannon’s Mouth, The Delinquent, DOG-EAR, The Journal, The Moth, The New Writer and Poetry Cornwall. www.franceskadot.wordpress.com Twitter@KatFranceska