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