A choreography of/for one or two birds on:
When the Twilight is gone
and no songbirds are singing
When the Twilight is gone
you come into my heart
and here in my heart you will stay
while I pray.
Tiny drawing #6
WHAT A DREAM TO DANCE ON A INFINITE BED MADE OF CLOUDS WITH AN HORIZON THAT HAS THE COLOURS of your most colourful dreams.
Doing the exercise of “I dance, because..”
Left hand had better days for the writing,
but it is still a baby and needs to dance more.
Page #52
