In the middle of the night
tapped invisibly
played and stirred
by a heavenly hand
swings the woman

who I watch, who I am
I feel my feet free
of my weight, relaxed
are also my buttocks, all of me
is free to be seen

Dresses hanging down:
my sisters
upwards by the ankles
arms and hair gracefully
loose, swaying

on the heavenly hand
and pulled away
on meat hooks
our screaming
flown away