Dance

They dance.
and at first glance
you see them to be together as one.
and together they move. until the beat is decease
and song has been sung
and even after they continue to dance.
and in the average lifetime not many will get the chance to experience what they go through
to have the opportunity to dance.
and im not talking about your everyday tango
this is a tornado on the dance floor
a cyclone of emotions
a fucked up fandango
with movements so hot damn near setting off fire alarms
two beings passionately melting into each others arms
knowing all this
the two dancers throw caution to the wind while leaving their regrets at home continue their dance with faces of stone.
their blank faces allow their intertwined bodies to relay the messages
and all i wish to know is what the connection is.
for some time ive studied these dancers trying to find what it is that makes them continue to move
Is it the love of the dance or more simply, love
or is it possible love is some type of sophisticated dance because we all know it takes two to tango
and although arguable you cant fall in love with yourself
and as i sit tying to think
i look out my window see the two dancers on the street
forever dancing
never missing a stride always on beat
although they may stumble always remaining on four feet.
for that.
i envy those who dance
they live
cry
laugh
rejoice
and die
all while together
all while dancing
all while loving
so to this day
i sit in my room trying to teach myself the steps
all while trying to learn what love is
hoping i get the chance to one day dance