A somersaulting torpedo of grace,
Levi is his name.
A rubbery smoothness that glides,
a pirouette is pirouetted with a smile.
Awakens every morning,
ties his jasmine sash,
and stiffens the eri,
searching to be a pair.
Meanwhile, his twirling tectonics
are as silky as the satin
and elegant bobbing
brings a dissonance of rhythmic waves.
An unshakable joy
that can kindle cozy pearls to shudder.
An ugly mass of poised mayhem,
is neither questioned nor joined.
All are silent, all painfully ignorant.
Levi sways on his own.
All turn their backs, all return home.
Levi swishes on his own.
Because approaching would mean poaching,
and requesting would be misunderstood.
So Levi dances in his kimono;
a mono dance, a mono life, alone.
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