"your body is built up of billions of tiny animals and they're all holding hands"

You are teaching me to dance.
Soft, young, with spider's legs,
you are a dandelion seed
whose dream I would pluck from the air
and eat without question.

Your unthinking art, your
tactless grace, your body -
free and permitted fluency
as though it was that I could trace
the echo of a hip's sway in spring.

My blushing eyelids are your
sea's coast: I lie beached,
clumsy, too aware of my
hunched position to fit
your fluid, intimate pace.

Oh, to disintegrate! 
Grain by infinitesimal grain,  my
shrinking embers swallowed whole by
your shifting, vast, unknowing soul
(and dancing starfish in the cove).

The End

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