this is how it feels
to be
in a lonely white circular dance~~
arms stretched out
fingers tracing
unknown outlines
of motions in empty fields.
i become a blur of vibrations
filling air with voices
of incomprehensible hope;
tales of Herodotus,
backlogged whispers of past notions
when miracles are made of
a e i o u
compositions;
tongues rolling over, clicking on syllables
to the extraordinary beats
tap
tap
tap
like rain.
i give the soft sounds
my feet follow
the hesitant phrasing
of swaying consonants
shifting with the
a e i o u
the union
of the flesh and of the unknown,
and all that labored breathing
to the exceptional rhythm
clap
clap
clap
from hands
that move over the length
of your creations.
