dancing in the sun

 I'm watching
sun stains on the ceiling
through my fingers:
they tremble and vibrate
they dance 
and change their shapes

when I finally get up
I tremble and vibrate
too
maybe from far away
you could mistake it
for a dance

my contours
can no longer hold
my own shape
they break
and fall to the ground
as in a slow motion
as if they were feathers

sun sets
and the shadow
swallows my room
and covers
my sadness
and my shame

when I walk to the door
I sway
and move 
to the music
I can't hear
I look at my feet
and I can almost
convince myself
that I'm dancing