Dina and Dan Employ The Language of Political Tirade

There isn’t one of us who hasn’t suffered the relation of relations. Yet all debts postponed until after breakfast. That we never got up to begin with under the weight of each other’s attention. These few smirks, guesses, depend upon privacy. The hushed bells in your poems mimic the walks, bridges, orchards, towers of others. There we go, faster and faster, because we do not know what else to do outside the sound of ourselves, to dwell like a globe in a relaxed hand. It’s only now that we are suddenly afraid of the roundness that surrounds our boides. Then the announcement of your two names stamps itself out, the women’s bodies, the men’s bodies, the windows and birds that feed one into the other's sky. Anguish and embrace thus merge, flight and its medium. The full range we see are its culminations, mountains and mountains crossed with light in rooms where music plays and we meet one another.