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Click hereThey dance on the beach
where tides succeed
and draw patterns
upon their bodies and
on the hard dance floor
(sea's antidote of salt and iodine
and droplets of sweat)
in abandoned motions
they dance since crepuscule
and they may dance till dawn
but they will not dance
after tonight
masks of foam
disintegrate by light and rend
their skins defenceless
to the erosion of sea and time;
some say the wind
won't be back to this beach
so soon, unable to breach
the opaque wall of algae
and with no wind,
essence of lightness,
of all aerial progression,
all dance will cease
their metrical ballet has
the weight of consciousness
and the elegance
of time-proved lovers;
their subtle gestures
forever imprinted in their skin
will resist the attrition of reality
and seek the following night
in successive curves of the body
that will define their own
as they melt in a chorus:
dance and remembrance.
Always you send me crashing on the multitude of meanings, like washing over every sand grain of the beach. Thank you.