Love is not the silly game we play, of who's going to call whom first;

Love is the beautiful dance I perform with the idea of you.
The way our bodies swirl and touch,
The way your soul melds into mine.
The way my heart heats up, and my whole being weighs down with warmth.

My hands hurt when I touch your essence; your presence in my fingers burns me.

I dance with the ethereal you, with a soft piano waltz lamenting in the distance.
I jump, waiting for you to catch me,
I'm stuck in the air.

The being that I dance with is intangible, it's not really there.
But I'm stuck in the air,
And I hope that you come to soften the blow when I fall.