Icebergs Dancing
Freshwater ice, compressed,
breaks off, with tremulous lights
and shakes
and rotates
in intricate snowflakes
like wings, of ice crystals
then floats away, in the open Ocean
and she's tracing his steps, leaving white dust
like crushed shells
as she walks , gracefully, as if on
Japanese Okobo
They were attached, as if by circuits of frozen stems
with lacings , of smaller molecules
its microscopic
and its perfect
her ribs split open, and a mosaic of musical strings
reveal, what looks like melting precious silver
and her face, is draped in a mass
of webs, upon webs
she looks at him, through the haze
he's the parchment Worlds were written on
now a sychronized flight path, he illuminates
all the crowd of beams
of celestrial, night skies
and there, white noise combines
in steady, different frequencies
with excact, united, intensity
heard and seen, by only a few
is it choregraphed ?
Icebergs Dancing.
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