The Mirror Dances

3 Because the human body is always

beautiful,

because there are paths through the thighs

to the bones of lightning,

because the navel is a perfect center

that doesn’t waste a single kiss,

because the curve of the buttocks

is the arc of our vast silence,

because the breast touches us in the night

with the singing of peachtrees,

because a single kiss

rolls up the blood

like a shade before the light.

4 Here body, there wave,

now to exist as the body wave

slow and full

splashing against stone caves,

walking up the black stone steps

where the balustrade is crumbling,

admitting light spinning

hair crashing from the solid sky,

the ritual pine tree

struck like a match,

open a new wave,

a warm bench breathing light,

now the darkness rises

one wave beneath the dazzled feet.

5 We dance before the mirror,

we move on this side

but the choreographer places our bones

on the other,

the dance which is inside us

waiting to be a flame,

the trajectory of

a perfect lie,

the evasion which wastes our freedom.