Las Bailarinas

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Sometimes, I enjoy watching snowflakes fall. Sometimes,
they are raindrops that
directly descend to the ground. Sometimes,
they are dancers who
wear thin, white dresses that shine like silver

and weave through the air before landing
as gracefully as a snow leopard. Sometimes,
I wonder, what is their purpose?
Why do they blanket the ground with
a pure, white quilt? Does

this fulfill their fiery passion? Or do they even
have passion. Sometimes, the world thinks
too objectively. Sometimes,
I cannot bear the objectivity of society. They
cannot comprehend nonhuman emotions.
Their objectivity silently burns against all creatures
and objects until they submit into oppression.
Why can’t snowflakes have emotions?
Why can’t snowflakes be dancers?





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