The Waltz

La_Valse

Your arm,
With full surety that air
And movement never fail,
Clasps my waist.

Your mouth,
As if you knew that
I had finally surrendered,
Pressed to my neck,
Which already ever so lightly
Retreats.

And as if to assert that this
Dance should be anchored
In known things;
Turn, rhythm, embrace,
Release,
The dominant and subordinate one,
You pull back my loosening grip.

But notice how,
Like one who nonchalantly
Throws off her dress,
I have already abandoned equilibrium.

Headlong we will fall
In a chaos of unraveling distances;
Only then will I see what lies
Behind your poise.

IV

Tonight I become the solitary bull,
the defiance of foam.

Above the nearness of your bone,
I am an invariable flame of necessity.

The hours become my bottomless appetite,
my blood a devouring wind.

I gouge shadows from the hollow of your body,
and scatter the spiders of your waist.

I topple bones and floods and a frenzy of insects,
the way the bull breaks the corners of its hold.