Dissonance in Joy

 

There’s dissonance in joy.

For instance, that sweet
meditative boy all woven
into yoga postures on the beach,

intent on fostering serenity

through something
out of reach,
and that bleached blond

quick whirl of fleet gesticulating girl

whose feet kick-danced and twirled
a touch too rashly past him.
Got him in the head.

Then there are the joys

one knows in bed. Perhaps
we ought to have investigated
those instead.








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