Читать книгу A Perhaps Line - Gary D. Swaim - Страница 11

He gathers her from a metal

chair, cradles her cautiously

in his arms.They dance.

Jobim and Gilberto

know nothing of MS, nor tonight

does she as, with closed eyes buried

deeply in his chest, her mind moves

to slow, complicated rhythms

of the bossa nova while limp legs trail

marionette-like along the polished floor.