She is made to speak
without words,
makes me weep
when she sweeps
her hands across
the wooden floor boards
raising them up
then dropping them
once more.
  
She is made to speak
with a well defined
unique physique,
strong and tiny
sparkling shoes
move as I lose
myself
and gain a muse.

A gazelle like
graceful rise
as she jumps
oh, so high
that I feel
angels will
drop from the sky
just to catch
her eyes
for a second.

She is made to speak,
with arms and feet
that move like
spiraling gas clouds
in the heaven,
a body that bends like
a sweet stream,
and she visits me discreetly
in my nighttime
and daydreams.

She is made to speak
and though I seek
to be near her,
I never get to hear her.
I only know her
from a distance
in the form of dance.