it's strange--
like dancing together
after the music's stopped.
miles apart.
the sound of a house
settling, alienated furnishings
binding together for a home.
the dance slows, anticipating
hesitation.
intuiting those that crammed
fear into uninhibited space,
for some measure of step.
control.
so she stretches her neck to
get a glimpse of him as if in a
crowded room--feeling virtually
smothered.
he never loses sight of her...it's how
she'll trust in being drawn to him.