The Lovers
The Lovers by Beth Moon
Tango Milonguero
“We dance tango because we have secrets.”
Marilyn Cole Lownes
They lean in, bending an apilado—
mutual axis united in passion.
Her limb lightly skims his leathered skin—
a caricia of long-time amor.
Petrified parada—breathless standstill
that keeps secrets, revealing naught but grace.
Tango milonguero Tango in which partners stay closely embraced
Apilado The dancers lean in towards each other and share an axis throughout the dance.
Caricia One of the dancers runs their foot up the outside edge of their partner’s leg, usually during a parada.
Parada Brought to a standstill, often with both dancers bending their knees and dipping down.
Baucis, Philemon
old temple keepers
the moon
knock at the door
unending kindnesses from hosts
guests who might be gods
one wish
that they die together
having lived for so long
as one
another loaf, more wine
thank yous, goodbyes
years pass
Philemon’s breath collapsed
he touched his chest
bark, fingertips leaves,
Baucis rooted, climbing
into his arms forever intertwined
again the gods were kind
the lovers
woven close
faces gaze
in opposite directions
a sliver of space
between their cheeks
one
loops like a knit stitch
right arm high
grounding balance
curls encircle his head
like a crochet cap
the partner
S-curve in the back
left arm raised
to the sky
their palms meld
in the clouds
hair riffles
on her shoulders
a Nippon silk shawl
voyeur
I steal away
on the murmur of fallen leaves
I’ve not seen trees in love before,
but these two –
They met in kindergarten,
grew into each other’s arms,
learned to winter ice and snow.
Their limbs danced in the wind
as together they leaved a mansion,
fed birds and squirrels.
For decades their leaves blushed
in fall sun, bared branches,
yet they cling to each other.
They believe in the same root.