Dancing line
My hand weaves these signs
that break life up into lines:
lines of ink that echo
lines of bodies
in movement
of the self into the
milieu of your waking dreams.
As I write, I dance
with my hands,
I bless my surroundings.
As I write, I dance
with my words,
I build my surroundings.
The choreography of my breathing
self is imaginary,
material,
it is both,
it is bodily, it is mental
it is
,
a dancing line
of becoming that rubs
and swirls
and breaks
and blends
what it touches
into interconnectedness.