Sara’s Geometry
She comes among us
where we are marooned on mats
She passes through the ocean of whiteness
dressed in olive and black
Linking her movements
is a line
or a frequency
and her feet glide along it
as she moves around the room
Her fingers seem to find it
as she draws them through the air
Instructions are given
and we labour into form
The guiding voice is warm and friendly
in contrast with the eyes
whose pupils are vaulted with radial shadows
Words have now failed us all
So without an answer
she sets herself and climbs away from the floor
Extending her limbs into the air
Finding the holds and crevices
that practice and experience have set for her
A structure that supports itself
She is held in continuity
by the body’s grain
of minute secrets kept
by that olive skin
Sprung like a wheel
Plotted like a constellation
Turning in the air
her shirt falls toward her neck
expressing the smooth, olive arc of her belly
An arcane, cursive language
written in the lines of a body
whose lexicon is mysterious
but whose articulation I understand absolutely
A cursive line
– alien calligraphy –
Her body turns like a word
as it effloresces in the mouth of God
whose meaning I find glittering all over my skin
Last night
I built a city in my dreams
from your lines and angles
Painted it
the colour of your skin
And filled it
with the shadows
of your eyes
Theme Park at its Darkest 
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