talks so much shit that I forget
people pay to take his class willingly
he uses all the names and faces
he knows in the room
happy that I’m not one of them
I learn early to do whatever he says
follow his body if I want
answers to the questions
that pop into my brain
like what comes after this or
what count is next or
what to do with my hands
the few times I scan the room
searching for the one person
I know here and snapped back
into the movements for fear
I’ll be called out
despite the fact that he drags
us like dogs unworthy
of his presence or his time
I feel myself find the rhythm
feel myself get lost in the moves
feel my back bend into itself
proud to meet every challenge
see all that I can do
when forced to show up
and get my body in line