this can be our slow song

maybe we can dance better to this speed
maybe our movements will agree at a pace with less haste
as your high heels slide down into the soil
i think about the life below us
we laugh and keep dancing as you descend further down
i think of the worms that move through the dirt
and I feel my skin begin to tighten
i think of the deceased rolling through the clay in response to dishonor
and of the more ancient dead powering our factories
i hold you closer and you murmur something worth talking about later into my ear
i press my sweaty palms to your hips as the tempo picks up
i think of hell below us

-grant stone

because i do miss you, grant.