Borders

Small movements
keep us centred
on the one
with smallish hips.

One who knows that
momentum keeps our
truths spinning.
They resist invasion

with flick and thrust,
flick and thrust
of small hips, and
our centre of gravity

falls over the
centre of their body,
and the weight is
transmitted through

their pelvis from
vertebral column
to their thighbone,
their knee, and their foot.

And all awhile
they hold us aloft –
rings of hope
encircling us,

Borders

as we see the border's
dangerous extremism.
So we clap, shout,
praise their balance,

their strength, weep
that their energy
might tumble, pile
of untidy hoops,

catching us up
in a Venn subsection:
one version of us
defined by our borders.