Thursday, March 4, 2021

Les papillons

 And I danced with myself

                                      in joy

                                            and in sorrow,

                                                   And I danced yesterday,

                                                             and I danced tomorrow.

 

You held me in

                      your arms fast,

                                            while I looked into your eyes                                     

                                                                                          crackling 

                                                                                                     with all-consuming fire.

Or perhaps, these were not your eyes at all,

                                    perhaps they were just two charcoals burning bright

                                                                                                    in the middle of the night?

 

And so, we danced the Waltz,

                                    a dance of returns and departures,

in a pulsating rhythm of three quarters

with each other

                                                            with each as the other,

                                            like les papillons                                                

                                                                           with flutter of eternity on their wings.

 

And so, you danced with me

                                    as your other —

And I danced with you as my other,

            and we danced with each other —

                                                                              as the other

                                                                                          side of our selves.