The best poems avoid eye contact.

Just before you find their rhythm,
catch their direction,
they dance away,
and you watch their beauty,
leaving

you full of wanting
wishing
you knew the steps
hoping
you might keep up
wondering
where they led
leaving
you to tap your feet,
missing
every third or fourth beat,
kidding
yourself that you too
could be sliding, shuffling
and maybe grasping the sway,

but they dance away,
and you stay,
while your eyes follow.