By: Hannah Rozenblat

The reflecting shimmery lights in the sea are people,

orange and iridescent white

They are dancing, it seems to me

Constantly in motion, limbs a blur

So close they sometimes seem one, drawing apart and merging

Or maybe they are fighting, fist pulled back and then released

Contorting, hurt, one’s violence making contact with the other’s flesh.

Sometimes the distinction between a dance and a fight is so blurry

You don’t know what’s going on until it’s all over

And those lights go out, defeated.


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