Vividly Breaking

by Kakera   Jan 5, 2015


2015-01-05 04:00

Through her dance, she enslaved us
within the confines of her expressions;
her every movement pushing downwards,
crushing every bone in our spiritual bodies,
and we couldn't even breathe without her permission.

She was a master of gravity,
that could turn any simple jump
into impossibly captivating levitation;
We didn't have any choice
but to become wind when we saw her.

But then she'd suddenly shift,
and come crashing down heavily,
moving as if all the blood in her veins
had suddenly turned into lead,
forcing us down on the ground with her.

Her every move broke us;
and painfully easily dominated,
and seduced us completely
so that anyone who watched her
could under no circumstances leave

She danced as if every second of it
was a fierce battle of life and death
that no-one near her could ever escape.
We were slaves to her expressions,
and her presence thoroughly oppressed us.

But the oppression felt beautiful.
We had never elsewhere understood
the ecstasy that only lives in such suffering,
and the hauntingly unkind actions
that define the essence of being human.

She danced with her life on the line,
and she did so with unrivaled cruelty.

We all knew that if she ever stopped dancing
both our lives would completely lose their meaning.
She spent every second of her life
prepared for it ending at any time,
so she lived through wild abandon

with such an annihilatingly vivid beauty
that we could never avoid asking ourselves
"What am I really doing with mine?"

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Latest Comments

  • 9 years ago

    by Sunshine

    Captivating, I couldn't wink until I was through with this poem. You have something so special and unique with words. I haven't read but 3 poems by you so far but I am wondering why I never came across your work.

    This poem is honestly crafted like a beautiful portrait.
    Well structured and well expresssed.

    very original !

    • 9 years ago

      by Kakera

      Thank you so much for your kind words. It's fun that it felt like a portrait, that was essentially exactly what I wanted it to be. I tried to capture the vastness of the experience I had when I first saw Ravel's Boléro being performed. The main dancer left me anxious in a way that was so pleasant that I felt empty when it had ended. Even ages later I can hear the music from that performance almost like a hallucination whenever I remember it.

      I think I failed though. Now in hindsight I think that I'm not mature enough in my writing to truly capture it yet.