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| "Duende" |
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The stage is dark.
The dancers stand, still as stone.
One, clothed in crimson,
the color of passion.
The other wears blue,
a deep hue of honor and truth.
The silver of steel unites them.
They wait
breathless,
excited.
The music starts
and slowly
the dancers circle.
An eternity passes
beat by beat,
and ends in a crash.
The tempo builds
spin
pass
not touching,
but tied by steel.
Faster, they dance.
A crescendo, a touch.
Red to Blue.
Steel to Flesh.
Crash!
and quiet.
The music has lulled.
They hold each other,
connected by blood.
Softly, the strains of music
whisper like the wind.
The finale approaches,
but the notes will not die.
A lone flute trills,
gaining life, giving life.
The dance awakens
with a final touch.
a stroke,
passionate and truthful.
A climax and silence.
The final bow,
a lone dancer,
clad in blue,
stands on the darkened stage.
- Katchoo
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