Dance

There was no music--
or was there? The music
was inside my head
like it always is when you are near.
I heard strings, and a lone trumpet
began softly cooing
when you gathered me into your arms, my cue
at sound, rhythm, movement.

My cue to extend love.

We started to sway--
by instinct? Imperceptible, at first,
tentative because that is how most of us learn dance: I remember
moving under dim lights,
the evening underway, time pushing itself
forward, and soon, goodbye,

but not yet, my Love, not yet.
I was not ready to let go
and neither were you--the story
of our lives, prayers for a little more:
a little more time, a little more you.

We flourish in agitations of hands,
grappling with minutes,
grasping moments with our palms,
despairing in low tones, muted cries and
held back tears, hidden in accepting smiles.
But not tonight.

We froze the clock's hands
and lingered in each other's skins.

Souls entwined,
we danced.