everything

Sometimes, stars really do align. Sometimes, every coin lands heads-up. Sometimes, the world is the way it should be.

If you've learned anything from this blog in the last month or two, it's that I care about communication. Dance, like everything else, is about communication, except it's not the kind that moves from breath to teeth to tongue, it's the communication between the cup of my fingers, curled down, and the cup of his fingers, curled up. It's the communication between his rib cage and mine, between my toes and my shoes, between my shoes and the floor, between the fabric of my skirt and the air it swings through.

And for three minutes, last night, I understood everything.