Tonight i am chilled on a windowsill in thin clothes. Tonight the space outside me seems more that i can bear. Tonight i lean, my skin through the space the window makes, my head hanging out into the birth pangs of a Friday night, gravity reminding me of the ends of my hair in the wind that sucks itself through the spaces between buildings.

In your sweet you show me joy and you tug me into yourself — into the mist of love — and i laughed and i was happy... and then i forgot. Thinking i had reached some level i let myself believe that there was a solid definition to that level that would not allow me to slip, but i forgot: that to be with you is more of danse than of staircase. And i had neglected the motion of the danse. On a staircase gravity is the enemy, but not so in the danse, and in our danse gravity is the depth of power and when we dance together we move like wind.

What are we if we cannot grieve over our ruin? The window now shut, or seeming to be shut, i lean until my back is pressed against the glass, and through it all there is the cold. There is the cold, and i have felt every mistake that i have made and i have screamed against them and have placed myself against myself and there is all that we have done to one another in the name of ourselves and in the name, even, of you, and all this can make itself known to me as it is pressed through glass against my back and i am a bit more open than i was ever made to bear and if i had to feel it without your arms in the danse then i would be imperfectly embracing gravity and falling through wind by now

Because this is what we do without you. And what am i if i cannot grieve for this? A city screaming against itself and when i hear it what can i do? Tonight i have spent this time a little girl with tears flooding her face and not knowing what to say except for your name again and again: salvation, salvation... in your name, in your arms, in the gravity danse, in your wind.

You know how beautiful you are to me, and when i forget this you show yourself to be more beautiful that i had felt. You are the depth and power i seek. You are the dancer and you are the danse; you are the danse's gravity, and you are the danse's wind.

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