Not who we dance with, but what we dance around.
Not closeness, but distance made aware of itself. The heartbeat in the next room, eyes meeting in the crowd.
Turn it inside out and every emptiness is an ache. Angles of expectation add up to desire.
We must return to the old savageries. You bring the broken dances, my love. I'll bring the fire.
Aseem Kaul
From here.
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