Sara’s Geometry

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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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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