Usually write an essay for Dec 1, World AIDS Day, but this year a remembrance
(item- fr 1988. Two ballet dancers jumped from their midtown apartment…in an apparent… at press time, their names have not…)
The cobalt realm
vanquished dying in a dream
Earth fire water air indigo before the corps de ballet
With their hands reaching to infinity
The dancers of the promontory past Balanchine
The ladies of enlightenment blue
A split infinitive of aloneness because it would always be revisited
It was the same fever only two nights before except
With a replay of the conversation
“I’m a little afraid, not all but” “yes, what should we do?”
“Nothing, go back to sleep Hold me
don’t see anybody until we know what we already know”
So that was our life. Cold, together, hunted.
In a couple of weeks it
all changed before we knew it-
the skipped classes
last minute calls of performance subs
the pretend dinners and rehearsals.
“we should tell them” I said. “nothing, they already know” he said.
I got the sickest first but we found out later
that medically he was in much worse shape
that anything could happen.
It was going to be slower with me.
It was the last time we made love
then we opened all the windows
Tchaikovsky morning finally
The Ladies of the ensemble
weren’t saying goodbye.