We sit closely at the table,
Sharing conversations about nothings
Full of friends and strangers combined,
The band begins to play
Your hand grazes mine,
You stand up tall to ask
I step, stride in gentle procession,
Your hand possessed by mine

You turn to me,
Two equals pressing slightly
Eyed but not staring,
Hungry but not starving
I rest my palm on your broad shoulder,
Feeling your familiar fingers tips gently grasping my hip

Your body whispers to mine,
Pushing it in rhythm
I respond to your queuing,
Touching your face and lips when wanting

Guiding not insisting,
Vulnerable and respected
Two people working together,
Towards a partnership perfected