to kunal

in the morning im asked to
match my tyranny to my will
and not dance at all
at night a day has ended
that the morning had shown
and i havent danced at all
in such scant measures
the days pass
in a meagre rhythym
i havent found my feet
yet yesterday
under the northern lights
for once it was night
but never dark
open eyed i remembered
the bourbons of france
in their palace of versailles
went to sleep
with a fervent prayer
oh lord may we dance