Such awkward dance partners,
this longing to follow my own pursuits,
this longing to be ever available to you.
Both want to lead.
They step on each other’s feet.
One waltzes, though the other
has put on rock and roll.
One loves eye contact, the other
loves closed eyes to better feel the music.
And yet they whirl and two step every day,
taking turns swinging and dipping and bowing.
I used to think they were rivals.
Now I know neither wants to dance alone.
Even now, they’re pushing back the furniture,
rolling up the rug. There’s gonna be a real
fine hoedown tonight.