The Dance

I wrote this for a dear friend.

The Dance

I love to dance with you.
That is, to talk with you.
Because every conversation with you
is a dance.

We both know the steps.
Your left to my right.
Your back to my forward.

We both know the missteps.
My foot on yours.
Your hand not in mine.

It is the knowing that is dear to me.
Most people must first learn the dance;
how to turn tongues and minds together 
as well as arms, how to move in unison, 
                          move forward,
move back.

We know the dance.
We are paired well.
I know your hesitations.
You know my abstractions.

                          Move forward,
move back.