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.