the best dancers ~em claire

Maybe God keeps me here like this
to stumble a little.
If I were to suddenly just
turn into light,
blinding myself even
to the most precious and necessary illusions,
then what hand could hold my own?
Where would rest a weary head?
What good use for warm hearts;
for hot tears?
Why eyes to see?
Why arms to open?
Which Lovefamily to fall into?

Oh, the best dancers know
what grace
every stumble
contains.

~Em Claire

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