“...have I told you? - your eyes are a dark poem of dancing snow at midnight ...”

“or that writing a poem you can read to no oneis like dancing in the dark.”

“...I hardly ever see your profile, but have I told you it's beautiful? - like the soft gentle lines of snow...”

“Oh you the creator, you the destroyer, you who sustain and make an end,Who in sunlight dance among the birds and the children at their play,Who at midnight dance among corpses in the burning grounds,You Shiva, you dark and terrible Bhairava,You Suchness and Illusion, the Void and All Things,You are the lord of life, and therefore I have brought you flowers;You are the lord of death, and therefore I have brought you my heart—This heart that is now your burning ground.Ignorance there and self shall be consumed with fire.That you may dance, Bhairava, among the ashes.That you may dance, Lord Shiva, in a place of flowers,And I dance with you.”

“I will Basquiat the canvas of your body like a Broadway Junction wall…and Gordon Parks you for those dark midnights when your scent fades.”

“I don't want you stashing yourself away with your Smolny friends tonight," Maman said. "I want to see you dancing with lots of handsome young princes and grand dukes."I rolled my eyes and stared out the window at the snow-covered city. I resolved to dance with the ugliest and the poorest men in the ballroom--if they should ask me.”