...Yes these brand new beginnings do feel sanctified by my movement, and for a while thereafter even the mundane street wandering hunting and gathering for post dance dish and then washing -seem, somehow holy and i am most reverent.
The present moment reverberates and takes up more than its usual space. Must be all that square footage created in the chest cavity while pounding our feet on the backs and shoulders of ballerinas.
"And I don't mean here" she should have said. I don't mean here, on this floor I mean somewhere else less crowded. Less cluttered with souls.
Where you are not you
and I am not me but we look like us. And feel like us. And we dance like us but with no one looking.
Did I say dance, I meant play.
in the slipstream of invisibility slip between the posts and out from under the gentle fingers of the well meaning handmaidens to the harbinger.
You'll be back before they notice the absence.