SF (June 17 1942 / Troy New York)


A dance between movement and space,
between image and imperative.
Each step, an arrival
of the familiar within the unknown.
The gravity of form
and the mechanism of each gesture
as profound and dissolved
as the body's memory of a stranger
who said nothing but in passing
met with you in stillness:
wanting to go no faster than this.

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Comments (1)

Like a cool fragrant breeze being brushing the face, inner gladness on and often whispers to you, in unexpected moments even. Lovely write. Thanks for sharing.