BERLIN WAS COLD.

A DANCER IN BERLIN IN 1930S.

Berlin was cold. She wanted to
Feel warm again. Wolfclinger

Watched her dance. He would
Clap his hands loudly when she

Had concluded her act, took a bow.
She knew the steps so well she

Could perform in her uneasy sleep.
He wanted her to perform in other

Ways too. Wanted her to undress
Slowly, piece by piece, item by item

And drop them to the floor and then
He wanted her to turn and turn so

He could see her nakedness from
All angles. She turned and turned

Like a ballerina, her arms raised, her
Legs just so, her toes holding the

Whole performance to perfection.
He liked her to lie upon the bed

Waiting. He watched her lay, took
In her body, the way it was laying

There, the arms, hands, legs, the
Thighs, yes, the thighs. His eyes

Would greedily feed each step.
Berlin was cold. She wanted to

Be warm again. There was always
That chill in his dark blue eyes,

She remembered, that deep
Unfathomable darkness. That

Something missing inside deep
Down when something dies.