The dance

I look across the floor and I wonder.
Would you dance with me, if I asked?
Like a school kid trying to get the nerve.
I find myself in such great doubt.
I dance on the balls of my feet.
Swaying to the rhythm of the beat.
Try as I might, I cannot seem to dig up the courage.
I begin to get discourage.

A nudge on my left takes me out the state of near panic.
I walk across the floor.
Weaving through the dancers and making my excuses.
As we bump and shove.
I look at you.
I breathe a breath to calm my nerves.
I ask you to dance with me.
I delight when you say, “Yes.”

We head out to the floor hand-in-hand.
I turn you to face me.
I awkwardly place my hands around your waist as you wrap your around my neck.
We sway to the beat.
The song goes on.
Nevertheless, all I can think is that I feel like a kid again.
Although, I am adult.
I feel elated and I cannot believe that I waited.

The song ends but we lose track.
Nonetheless, we continue to move in circles.
Oblivious of all.
Until it dawns on us that, the song has end.
We feel embarrassed, but we just chuckle.
We look at each other.
Before heading off the floor.
Hand-in-hand.

Robert Confiant 24 December 2014 (mod 12 March 2016)

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