I never understood the allure of the dance
until it was my only excuse to be close to you
and then the sidestep came naturally.
The weave, fallaway, reverse, pivot.
Ā
Close enough to feel your breath on my temple
and see your pulse in your neck
and then arm-length away,Ā
distant enough to feel your loss
enveloped by cold air
not warmed by your touch.
Ā
It was the only sport you played.
You were sure the gentle guided turns
would make us think it wasnāt a game
of spin the top till Iām too dizzy to tango,
shivering as a fox trots over my grave.
Ā
When you noticed yourself imprinted on me
My cheek creased from the folds on your lapel
Your cologne settling on my skin
Your kisses bruising my lips
You turned to the next partner in the round
and I fled the ballroom,
wishing I had never entered.
