Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Circle in the Sand
Eyeing the other, warily. And being watched in return. This strange dance we are creating, a dance of words (a dance without steps... what does one call it? A play without words, is after all, a mime) makes precious little sense to me.
We watch and circle - this one is dangerous - and yet my guard is down. And where one would expect to be tense, bunched like a spring, poised to leap - or dodge - instead one feels a quiet calm. This experience... is enjoyable.
Which of us will be the first to break away? Or will we.
And would the silence beyond be as acute as the insistent voices on the edges of consciousness are promising?
And yet it matters not.
We watch and circle - this one is dangerous - and yet my guard is down. And where one would expect to be tense, bunched like a spring, poised to leap - or dodge - instead one feels a quiet calm. This experience... is enjoyable.
Which of us will be the first to break away? Or will we.
And would the silence beyond be as acute as the insistent voices on the edges of consciousness are promising?
And yet it matters not.
