HALL OF HAUHET

I stood

in the hall of Hauhet,

with its obsidian

spires scraping sky,

and watched

a crescent satellite

perform its exquisite minuet;

And in that pensive moment,

as I stood,

lost in the eurythmics of it all,

I saw myself,

the headliner

of a burlesque dramalogue,

each tear carefully choreographed,

my eyes adusk

in crepuscular glee;

And somewhere in the indistinctness,

amongst the backdrop

of the hush-hush murk,

I felt your passionate sigh,

warm against my skin,

and your knowing caress

upon my shoulder.

In florid fashion

we danced about,

moving-together, together-moving,

to the euphonious rhyme 

of a symphonic poem,

moving-together, together-moving

into the tenuous nether, 

of primordial penumbra.