the last dance

they lived in a house

full of moths and mirrors,

talking to shadows

like they’re old friends.

 

once, they were the Valentina Twins

tap shoes sharp as razors,

feathers in their hair,

hips that knew how to sell a song

to a drunk room full of men

 

no one could time a slap like Vera

no one could drop a line like Mavis

and make it feel like jazz

 

so it was time for one last dance

they dug out the costumes

smelling of dust, perfume

and other ghosts

then shuffled and spun,

music playing from a warped old radio

 

they bowed

deep as their bones allowed

and shone

like rusted stars

that never quite went out

 

 

Done