Anise

Oh, Anise,
Would you be so kind
As to listen
As I unburden myself?

As this dance, which lingers—
Malformed—
In my mind
Takes from me that lasting dignity:
What remains of the rhythm
That animates my spirit?

Or would you sigh,
Anise,
And stroke your eyebrows
As my thoughts—
Vaporous—
Dissolved before you?

As my throat constricted,
Would you fall into reverie,
Content with your own dance—
Graceful—
And delicate—
And elusive—?

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