The dance

To know that a woman is in love with one is to see the way she does not hide.

That the sun that has been mentioned to you is she without shadows because in you she has been shameless and abandoned. In you she cannot commit the simplicity of lying, she leaves you speechless when she dances like an intoxicated nymph.

And you know that those awkward feet, with drunken arms and hips of the universe, are in love with you. Because she no longer has another space for joy than you around her.

T.A.