the eloquence of dance

how i would love
to watch your shadow
dancing with the light on
the white of my burgundy walls;

tango with danger,
foxtrot with romance,
waltz with occupation,

but with me, your dancing
is a perfectly miscalculated
swing dance, the compliment/
complication of

hips
meeting
legs
meeting
hands
meeting
lips

and yet all we hear is the
reverberation of manic laughter,
circling the pulsation of
living attraction, and severing
it at every weak spot.