They call her Tango
the girl with naked eyes;
whose feet kick up the stardust
left behind from the lights
of the night before
the way she moves
you want to slither down her velvet skin
and nestle yourself in the black ribbons
she wraps up in her unisex beanie
she became a woman
in juvenile hall
but became man
in rehabilitation
she learned to walk
the road map of her heart
ignore the metaphors of her mind
the ones that the blind spin
in their golden spindles
the same threads
i try to balance on
and keep slipping
to find myself lost
in the same streets
and alleyways
Tango danced those months
of her birth.