Literature
Telemann Sonata
Take my hand and we’ll dance
Spinning, writhing, into archaic trills
There’s so much to tell
Playful
cascade,
upon
cascade
The careful waves of rhythm
An imperfect mirror
Lagging an impatient step behind, fingerprints set us part
One element lower; the mere countenance of harmony
Ascend now;
Ascend as
We
Fall
Forward
One last moment, in this clean draft, and
Hear; let our declarations float; nowhere to go
But the calling wind to take it away