She wanes and waxes, cutting shapes in reflected lights. Easier to catch, harder to predict. I watch from the sides, scared to commit, afraid of failure, breeding shame. I sit still as she shifts and shimmies. But the lights accept her as their own and she breaks apart into a billion brilliant particles. The air becomes her, forms a lustre making sweat sheen, banal beatific, dull keen, and radiance sublime. Now her light is everything. That, I will never be. I sit still and settle for proximity. She coalesces and cavorts, reshapes herself and sees me. Join, she gestures…