And so they danced
with such intricate perfection
that it seemed that their bodies
were telling the stories of the world.
They moved with such assuredness and vigour
they wrote the words with their essence and spirit.
They danced and danced
and fell in love
with themselves and each other and everything around them.
And in doing so they caught a glimpse of the sun.

They discovered its choreographed movements
rising and sinking
like the bending of the knees and ankles; and with them
The bending of the thoughts and soul.
And so the dance became the passion
and the sun became the answer
and the two held one another over the heads of all mankind.

And for these two, who
    danced and loved
    danced and loved
they all at once understood the strength and beauty
that lies just beyond the reach of the arm.
So they reached while they danced, to try and touch the sun—
but it sank as they collapsed on the stage
that held them while the sun watched them dance.

Now these lovers have fled and lost the day,
but their dance has held them intact –
the stories written by their bodies have kept them alive.
And so it comes the time for us to watch them
as they dance upon their stage of loneliness.
We, the forlorn beings of the earth, take our seats and stare
witnessing their bodies strive to attain the proper plain.

So in this audience we will linger
until one gives up the fear of breaking
and feels the decay and wane of their body
while it moves to the sound of the music
and dances, to the words they cannot say.

The End

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