Word: dancer.

A dancer on a stage. Like a word on a paper. One single word on an otherwise empty sheet. Just like that word the dancing is not only about that particular dancer on the otherwise still stage. It's about all the other words we refer to this word. It's about all those words we think are missing. The space. Space in time, space in room. Space inside us.

Maybe the words were never missing. By that single word being there, reminding us, all those other words come to us.

To me dancing and poetry have a lot in common. What makes a sentence poetry instead of just plain communication? What makes a movement dance instead of just a pedestrian action? I wouldn't say that there's a fine line in between. I would say both dance and poetry co-exist with the every day life. The movement of me putting on a shoe could be dance. Put the scenario on a stage and the struggle to make the shoe fit on the foot and the simple complication of the lacing can be a tragic but yet loving dance. Same things with words. Take the sentence your friend said yesterday. Pick it apart and let it stand by itself. Clearly poetry material. But if we never put that putting-on-of-the-shoe-thing on a stage? Does that still make it dance? Well I'm not the first one to ask that question even though I see it from a different angle: ...."if a tree falls in the forest and there's no-one there to hear it, does it make a sound?"