Dating isn’t for sissies. I am glad that those days are over. In between relationships and marriages, the loneliness is briefly interrupted by the dating ritual, that awkward dance between humans who are seeking companions and lovers. It isn’t a scientific endeavor, is it? What I really hated was the pressure to show physical skill and agility on the dance floor. From my days as a self conscious teen, to my days as an unencumbered adult, I was never a graceful dancer. So, first dates and dancing were not a way to find Ms. Right.
Can you dance?
she said,
coyly.
He thought quickly.
Surely, they will not fail me now?
In an instant,
he knew,
that the dance he danced each day
did not count.
He thought of the many moments that his truth
danced out of reach,
and his dancing words
hung,
swinging,
from the top of the business tree.
They dangled,
like participles
in a grammarian nightmare.
Can you dance?
Of course, he thought.
I dance around my feelings
every day.
If I stop to feel them,
I know that I will surely die.
Can you dance?
Oh, yes, I can.
What kind of dance would you like?
I dance the dance of the runner.
I run away,
and still away.
I dance the dance of the dreamer.
I wish for a slow and easy pace.
I hope that the music will follow my lead.
Can you dance?
Can you teach me?
