Ataraxia Aquarello

Đóng góp: Your hands and my words trace circles,
Lines, volutes, assonances,
Fragran ces of sonorous abstractions
Atmosp heric nuances,
Tenuous impalpable motions of spinging chords;
Cerulean, overseas-blues hover and twist
In floating constellations

"W e open the dance like unusual
comedians or sylvestrian
interpr eters of a bizarre picture."