A white moon,
Settled on the salted night.
Spinning to a tune,
Played by a mysterious loon.
She strums and sings,
Pounds her feet,
While keeping out ideas,
This line, This song, so neat,
This idea, This action, crumbled street.
She plays for man,
She plays for woman.
She plays for all,
religion, color,
who rises and who falls,
Dantè, Caderousse,
Hermione, Bellatrix,
Beowulf, Hrathgar,
Victor, Elizabeth,
All hear her tune.
Do they know?
Or do they dance?
I dance, I dance alone,
but I remain unhearing.
I am now, as I always,
Dancing, dancing away,
With no beat,
no sound to guide.
Still, I feel, I know,
She plays for me,
As she plays for you,
Always playing,
never through.

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