Your hands and my words trace circles,
Lines, volutes, assonances,
Fragrances of sonorous abstractions
Atmospheric nuances,
Tenuous impalpable motions of spinging chords;
Cerulean, overseas-blues hover and twist
In floating constellations

"We open the dance like unusual
Comedians or sylvestrian
Interpreters of a bizarre picture."
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/a/ataraxia/aquarello_20301230.html ]