Dancer on Fallen Transmissions

Poetry, Maia Poon

Little one dancing on telephone poles

I want to see you float, I want to see you float

All those lazy hours passed between mine and yours

I can feel them in my soul, I can feel them in my soul

So we dance around

When the morning is open

And I laugh until

My window has sun

And you’re wide awake

In the coffee-stained kitchen

And we’ll dance until

The evening has closed

Little one dancing on telephone poles

It ain’t all for show, it ain’t all for show

The way you float straight into your dreams

The whole world does know, the whole world does know