We dance a rondel in your favor, lightspread casting cataracts of rainbows aglisten, alive in groups of two dancing dispersion, alighting from aga to the door and a breakfast-crumbled table, no longer wiped by your hand.
We dance of progression but a rainbow cannot stop a bullet halt a drone hear the deaf-eyed screams of hurried, heart-beating boys racing for cover spread under an arch against a wall.
We dance the longwise set, a jiggling lost dance stepping over a fallen rounded shield, hushed now as a ceasefire ceases and the house cools again a plaything catches the light. A breakfat-crumbed table, no longer wiped by your hand.