<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
the disorient express
\nan expression of
\nproximity to
\nthe angle of loss
\nthe moving within parameters, without direction
\nframe & shift, my body & hers
\nI meet her gaze, I feel her grief mirror mine
\nI am hollow
\nI am rattled
\nI am moving still
\nI have taken this train before
\nbut this journey seems more melancholy
\ntravel takes its toll on the body
\nexhausting
\nfebrile confinement
\nredrum? or
\nvintage glory
\nlet’s dance!
\nI am prepared to move
\nbut it’s a mess in here
\nlook outside, something’s passing you by….
\nyou thought you’d meet someone interesting along the way
\nyou thought you’d at least find a comfortable place to rest
\nbut here you are full of emptiness
\nhere you are alone with your echoes
\n& someone else’s suitcase
\nare we there yet?
\nfalling into the past
\nfalling into disrepair
\nfalling into each others arms
\nfaces merging with the facing of truth the loss of youth is not without hope it is blurry & a bit corny but hang on to it don’t forget that this ride isn’t over yet….<\/p>\n
cross-dissolve
\nunbecome the other
\nbreathless on the threshold of cool austerity
\nseclusion\/inclusion
\nauthority meets flesh
\ndevotion undone
\nthe singular geminated
\nthis dis-order of being, sisters of support
\na mutual knowing under the skin
\nthe walls whisper.
\nthe bodies howl.
\nbeneath habitual movement there is a quivering strength.
\neviscerated effigies
\nmemory callipered to bone
\ndeath is dancing here
\nreaching out to touch my skin
\nwitnessing. moving. traversing the length of a lifetime.
\ni am sliding out of the way. i am becoming a point in space, a point of contact
\n(or am I just getting in the way?)
\nshe makes my body hers
\nrising
\nfalling
\nstanding on the edge
\nsomething’s burning
\nthe leap into space
\ninto waiting arms
\ninto gravity’s certain embrace<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
the disorient express an expression of proximity to the angle of loss the moving within parameters, without direction frame & shift, my body & hers I meet her gaze, I feel her grief mirror mine I am hollow I am rattled I am moving still I have taken this train before but this […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":679,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-711","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dance_interrogations_dianne_reid"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/711","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=711"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/711\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":716,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/711\/revisions\/716"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/679"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=711"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=711"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hipsync.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=711"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}