Severely now will we dance
In these deserted stretches,
No ground but the words beneath us.
Swiftness and slowness-themselves—
Come and move with us.
With posture like a bronze pear,
I anchor knees and fold feet under.
On urgent points you come running;
You sway like a brittle flower,
Swiftly to fall with little sharp knees
Upon the oblique and tempered thighs.
Angular and singular our attitude,
But its beauty pleases us.
Your glazed surfaces shine.
There is no objection and no applause
As I exit with you upon my arm,
Drawing your bright satin points after us
Like a blade across this intangible ground.
Leave a Reply