We're dancing on a knife's edge, you and I. You know it - I can see the sparkle in your eye.
But do we care? I suppose there's somewhere deep down in where mind sits at its desk and all the glaring danger signs flash red. But on the surface, there's a bit of gold in knowing where we stand for now, and being free to dance the line with comfort in your friendship yet excited all the same.
We know where we stand: it's not together, so we're free to tap the dance floor lightly and smile into the night, because our words are sparring in - well, let's say they might have crossed the line.
But just our words. We two? We're standing side by side (this side of the line) and laughing at them, pointing out the silliness yet somehow still content to stay and watch them anyway for lingered moments that speak more deeply than the words themselves could ever do.