View Coyote's pages the way they were intended to be viewed.
Break out of frames
The music swells
as Pete glides a kick
around the floor,
his head even with
the breasts of the girl
who asked him to dance.
Their eyes never meet,
their palms grow clammy with
sweat, and their hearts
palpitate with the
spring rhythms we lost
so long ago.
Bored teachers chat,
check their watches, and
wish these reminders gone
with the last dance.
© William Davis 1998
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