The cells speak through this music. The great turn and counter turn is the moving of the body against light, against dark. In one phrase the sun rises and the sun sets. It is not thinking that stops the breath. Not mathematics, not form. Whenever the music slows, pain becomes visible. The special German terror of not finishing. So life is finished in this partita. What is born must die. You can soar toward immortality but not reach. Earth is the drag on the body, earth spangled in brightness like broken glass. The wholeness is the body dancing in the inner ear, the body finding its end.