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Variations on a Theme by Pina Bausch


by Sam Rasnake


Words are of no help. I know exactly

what I'm looking for, but not with the head.

It's in the body already. Every detail,

 

every move finds something new — the dirt

of spring, a full moon on water, silence.

Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch,

 

in whispers of a dream of bodies moving.

The credo is never allow anything I don't believe.

I've always sought something I didn't know.

 

Every obsession finds its place. There's no

tradition to hold on to — nothing but the dance

making visible the promise of a flawless truth.

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