Aplomb

The girl with the large, bony fingers and long, slender legs waits at the feet of the stairs for a reaction that'll never come, for an excuse that might give sense to our yet uncertain procedure, grasping that all of her garments suit her just fine, fit like a glove beyond compare, over purely physical grounds, carrying the shaky foundations of our aplomb into somewhere and sometime that stretch beyond our knowledgeable space and time, abstract, healthy, flawless and ideal, as welcome and timely and refreshing a concept as the final period at the end of the last of our intelligent sentences, as the silence we yearned for and which resumes after a most violent storm, as the sudden realisation of reproducible beauty and cadence to keep control of our fate the minute we hear the unparalleled, precise, short, sharp rattling sound of castanets in a cheap 1980s disco hit.