Jazz Tango by Miguel De Caro

The old couple is dancing. 
Their bodies are thick with age,
their feet callused yet quick.
This is an old story, like water, like flying.
Still, each time they dance it, something new.

How they are bold with each other.
How like a kite she agrees to be led.
How the magnet of desire pulls in and at them.
How close they sail to the edge of the flat world,
how they long for the flying plunge.
How they learn to read each other’s weather.
How they bear children, work and weep and laugh.
How they count the casualties.
How they make love: I do   I do   I do
How they sleep each night for decades spooned around each other,
wake to tell their dreams.
How they carry on.
How they haunt each other.
How strange to find themselves old and still dancing
quick and slow under the crooked smile of the moon.
How they sail closer and closer to death.