Slow-Dancing
Walking at a slow, unfocused clip, at a low elevation,
On one of this fitness center's treadmills,
I listen, on my iPod, over and over and over,
To "Touch Me When We're Dancing."
The hauntingly romantic lyrics
Of Karen Carpenter's rapturous, fluid swoon
Draw me into a fantasy of dancing nude with you,
Though you're a thousand miles away
And won't be home until late tomorrow afternoon.
Gradually, I feel my feet moving to the music,
My body gliding into a sway,
My blood humming "let your love flow through me"...
The two of us holding each other close,
Our hearts beating together, slow-dancing.
05/16/11
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