grains of salt on hardwood floors
smelling of orange oil to keep their shine
buy they aren't mine
i just rent them to produce
my melody
my rhythm
my flow to you
as the grains stick to the bottom of my feet
how generous of you to dust them off
but you don't
you can't see
me skipping beats
or hear them missing in my words
just part of the conversation
just part of the dance
i don't like this dance
i've been dancing for so long
only know how to shimmy and shake
you aren't a shimmy
or a shake
i need new moves
you need a stronger prescription
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