Two To Tango

life calls for a dancing partner.

dance to the dishwasher

rinsingrinsingrinsing

tango to the tea kettle’s whistle

boogie to the morning birds.

it’s time for your hands to meet new hips.

smile grudgingly

and secretly glow

when the someone whose chest fits your head

moves those defiant fingers

your worn and calloused, masterpiece-penning fingers

from your hips

to theirs.

wrestle with your furrowing eyebrows until

they pull up and out

up on your eyes

all the better to see you with, my dear.

if the beauty is too much,

close them.

music doesn’t stop.

water will churn, boil, and bathe the birds,

those impossibly incandescent lovebirds,

until your feet stand still.