Footwork

what spectators don’t see in dancing
is that every movement is an act of vulnerability.
every pose and gesture
is read and translated
as a language
of reliance

exchanged in hours of pains and prickles
spent waiting on one’s toes;

developed in a gasp for breath
before the shifting of weight
from one foot to another;

still hoping
that an innocent misstep
would not crush the other’s foot.

there is no easy way to dance, they say

but we’ve waltzed over the first few rounds
like pros
never minding forms and conventions
dictated by tempo.

lover,
this isn’t the first time
i have been swept off my feet.

i have long been passed
from one partner to another
in some bizarre round dance
i was half aware about,

but you stepped in
at such perfect timing
to pull me out of the loop
with your offbeat footwork
and awkward coordination.

when the melody fades into a blare,
will you still be there
to hold my hand
and match my two left feet?

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