dancing

I am dancing with you
on a autumn meadow
slightly dry grass is scrunching
under our naked feet
holding you strongly
in a light hug

surrounded by millions of blinds and deafs
without any wise
it has no present,
no future, no past

it is like now
and never

the air is hot,
biting our languorous bodies
we do not really breathe

is it me, you, or brightness
which has taken us
to this autumn grass...?