Suite: Night/Dance in the Horizon

V. Court Gavotte

But the night finally wove
the seasons together,
threading the months
with a tender hand. I, too,
sold the silence out for
a little night music.
Chambers within chambers,
doubled and tripled upon
themselves,
came to a bow and a curtsy
at the center of my room, my vastness.
The party usually crashes
at the dawn, but the strings
kept delaying the sun's arrival,
holding back the minutes repeated
and refrained.
It seemed disjointed,
the multi-coloured rooms
flowing without flow into
one another,
the party-goers coming out of nowhere.
Into the red room we go...
The day was like a sickness,
corseting the night
to the point of suffocation.
The gentlemen danced
until their torsos dissolved,
leaving powdered limbs and ponytails;
the ladies spun to the edges
and disappeared their steps off the stairs.
Though my shoes are tight,
I should like to dance in finery
and skip from night to night.
But the night finally wove
the seasons together,
threading the months
with a tender hand.

      IV. Whirlwind in My Ear

      VI. Jig at the End of the Horizon

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