Page 65 - MIL-OSC

tarantella
our hands confused
surprised frightened
in silence thought and yearning in terror and uncertainty
but led by confidence
our hands get lost
salt beads joined in
from every place
were everywhere bowed to the sighs
took bodies in slack reins
streams plaited with the fingers winding run in chases until wrists lagging behind and up to elbows flow heavy sculptured veins
but stubbornly
so obstinately
wresting to arms some while others aghast possessed by wonder
fell into the mist of breath invisible again on hands
those enraptured with their dance fell to temple depths
in concentration understanding crawled tender light soft
then once more angry madly struggling passionately
in this astonishedness and shapelessness amid music that arose from musing dreams of two creations
that formerly were independent
our hands lost
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