XXVIII.
Master came home early and caught me at it. Dancing that is, waltzing a
way, a round a reason I love the waltz resistance is futile my collection
of songs with a rhythm resembling that tick tick tick and glide slide
glide a layered time, eternal triad tied to a tetrahedron and a triple helix
twist this body Saint Francis between sensation and symbol swallowing
its own tail when even the woeful song I will warm to.
I am one two threeing about the kitchen with a
Danceman stuck in my
ears singing along, the sound so close it comes out the back of my
head
saving distractions, the phone rings, the door knocks, the wind
whistles
while I wiggle when without the real sounds I still hear music, but
not
the ones I choose at will, the other sounds I hear, interruptions,
breaks,
fissures in the flowing. Like so.
I think sHe was standing there for a while
before
I caught her smell and turned round.
How can I be sure.
In a world that's constantly changing, how can I
be sure, where I stand
with you? I waltz up to his face singing. Whenever I'm away from you
I want
to die, cause you know I want to stay with you. At this point I
embellish
the waltz with uncalled for pirouettes. How do I know - maybe you're
trying
to use me, flying too high can confuse me - touch me but don't take
me
down. My hands sing the lyrics between his legs before I leap
back in absurd arabesque and sHe can't
help himself but laugh.
Whenever I'm away from you my alibi is telling people I don't
care
for you. My perfomance now includes self arousal, my hands don't
care
for him either, they care more about my own breasts which are
much firmer and well rounded than his.
Luckily I have placed myself underneath the
fortuitous rail that hangs
from the ceiling which I use for playing possum when we are both not
using
it for fun, so turning away from him I spring up then pull up my
body, hook
the legs over it and drop down into his face. Maybe I'm just hanging
around
with my head upside down. It's a pity - I can't seem to find someone
who's
as pretty and lovely as you. I reach out and grab his head, close my
mouth
over her nose upside down, not a new sensation, but the reversed
gravity lends
it a certain je ne sais quois.
How can I be sure? I really want to know, I ask
his chin before getting
down and running back into the kitchen where I call her up, invest a
dime.
How's the weather? Whether or not we're together - together we'll see
it
much better - I love you forever, you know where I can be found.
I take my bearings, get up a bit of a run.
How can I be sure in a world that's constantly changing?
The calculations I make in space time motion are as usual near to
perfect
which is why I am so good at dancing, and I drop into a neat forward
roll
to finish with my feet the four inches in front of his, the spring in
those
feet given to me by nature science and a happy disposition ping me
into
place, after the mandatory olympic arm outstretching maneuver, I
drop
back to his feet looking up in supplication.
I'm sure with you.