And I danced with myself
in joy
and in sorrow,
And I danced yesterday,
and I danced tomorrow.
You held me in
your arms fast,
while I looked into your eyes
crackling
with all-consuming fire.
Or perhaps, these were not your eyes at all,
perhaps they were just two charcoals burning bright
in the middle of the night?
And so, we danced the Waltz,
a dance of returns and departures,
in a pulsating rhythm of three quarters
with each other
with each as the other,
like les papillons
with flutter of eternity on their wings.
And so, you danced with me
as your other —
And I danced with you as my other,
and we danced with each other —
as the other
side of our selves.
