Is it not the breeze that whispers through arcades
Between their ancient shades, whilst trains
Real, or of skirts undone, or of his dancer's ghost, no, not you, sweetheart -
Are rushing at the wall?
Whatever happens next is hidden, we cannot foxtrot through
And sweep the night away out of its obscure premise, too
much?, perhaps. Delay one moment longer, though, don't open
up your gaze as I am quite content,
| I feel this has a lot more to do with everything else than its title. Y'know, I'm not normally one to criticize an author's choice of title, but I do believe that it allows a limited resource of what to expect.|
I didn't think I'd be reading something so profound, is what I'm trying to say.
As I read along, I found myself relating to different aspects here and there. I found that although this was written from an entirely different perspective, and perhaps aimed for a certain audience, it's a brave piece- one that baffled not only dancers, but anyone else who opens their mind to it.
I enjoyed it, and I'm wondering why no one else has commented. Quite glas I caught your username in the recommendations.
|| Posted on 2014-11-25 00:00:00 | by MyPeriodical | [ Reply to This ] |