I know, with every exhausted sinew,
every aching muscle, that I love him.
I cannot pass a day without him.
If we are kept apart, by
inopportune illness, or inconsiderate
demands by those who would take me away
(thinking, in their well meaning ignorance
that I would benefit from distraction);
then I am edgy, unfulfilled, knowing that
he will need ever more of my attention before
he rewards me with the feeling of flight.
He fills my heart and mind so that
a life without his passion and presence
is a life inconceivable,
a life intolerable.
And yet.
He is a hard master,
who makes no allowance for my love.
He expects no weakness, no excuse;
he demands my daily obeisance at his altar.
He withdraws into cool distance if I but falter
in my constant striving to perfection for his pleasure.
For him, I starve my body to submission,
lest any curve should offend him.
For him, I tear and stretch ligament, muscle,
lest the shapes I aspire to in our communion
should disappoint him in his demands for more.
For him, I drive myself to sobbing exhaustion,
but hide it, knowing that only perfect ecstasy
will hold his interest in me.
In his name, I will do all this because
he is my heart, my life, my soul.
His name is Dance.
every aching muscle, that I love him.
I cannot pass a day without him.
If we are kept apart, by
inopportune illness, or inconsiderate
demands by those who would take me away
(thinking, in their well meaning ignorance
that I would benefit from distraction);
then I am edgy, unfulfilled, knowing that
he will need ever more of my attention before
he rewards me with the feeling of flight.
He fills my heart and mind so that
a life without his passion and presence
is a life inconceivable,
a life intolerable.
And yet.
He is a hard master,
who makes no allowance for my love.
He expects no weakness, no excuse;
he demands my daily obeisance at his altar.
He withdraws into cool distance if I but falter
in my constant striving to perfection for his pleasure.
For him, I starve my body to submission,
lest any curve should offend him.
For him, I tear and stretch ligament, muscle,
lest the shapes I aspire to in our communion
should disappoint him in his demands for more.
For him, I drive myself to sobbing exhaustion,
but hide it, knowing that only perfect ecstasy
will hold his interest in me.
In his name, I will do all this because
he is my heart, my life, my soul.
His name is Dance.
