Suite: Night/Dance in the Horizon
When the night is absent,
this wilderness and this vastness
watch over me--
without eyes. I have been a satyr,
red-nosed and lusty,
stretched between your wide hands and the ground,
All things are cello bodies,
they call from their innards;
the murderous murmurings of their dark insides
drain trauma from the wailings of winter,
the gangrene of lecherous sleep healed.
When you bow deep to the ground
to kiss my hair,
vibrate silver--damned wind
through my body leaps
a gust of pure winter song.
winds little by little into strings of light
dancing loudly across my trembling tones
--around which the heavens leap--
drunk with the darkness, darkening space,
in tempo with the twilight pulses,
pressing notes into my sides with laughter
until I have arrived.
III. The River Coursing the Moon
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Sylvia Chong (email@example.com)