MAYA’S DANCE
Rings on her fingers and on her toes
studded with jewels from caves
of holy emptiness and yet,
where she goes,
nobody knows.
Maya she dances on waves,
saving myth and longing,
to dress her slaves;
sand on her breasts
washed away
in dreams of becoming.
She doesn’t feel the sky
where, through silent infinity
meteorites fly.
To her, they are fable.
So young and unstable,
she curves with colored
bliss through ocean spray.
In the conscious sea of the brave
Maya, she dances in waves.
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