The Dance

The dance begins with that small look, a glimmer, a twitch of an eyebrow...Then moves onto a nod, an outstretched hand. The hope of a new beginning. Starting with large distance and proper manners, polite noises and bitten tongues, slowly as it evolves things get faster and more dizzying, the chance to turn back is behind, and forward is your only choice. You think you know exactly what you are stepping into, the time, steps, rhythm....But things are not what they seem, and your view gets tighter in, no more the luxury of the wide angle lens. You feel yourself aching to follow, to be led, the space is nonexistent, you are two halves of one whole, with the line where one starts and the other ends indistinguishable. You find yourself no longer able to carry your own weight, but being supported by the owner of your heart. You fight hard to regain your step, but it has been sacrificed, and long out of your control. As much as you want to hate it, you cant help but love, and feel love, no matter the circumstances, procedure, protocol. As you are swallowed into it, you know that you will never escape, and that you should be far more bothered by that, but you cant help but relish in the total dependency, and the safety of its embrace. You may drift away now and then, but it will always bring you back, where you belong.