We are dancing…

Tonight is the first time we’ve been here together. It’s dark out, there are no clouds and the stars fill up the sky. You say you’ve never seen stars like that before. I tell you that the stars are always like that out here except when they are falling.

The strange sounds in the distance carry over the hills to your ears and the slight breeze sways the tall grass and the needles in the pine trees. So many earthy scents combine to fill your nostrils, the smells of late spring.

We go inside. I turn down the overhead lights, clear the floor, put on one of my favorite songs, and crank it up!

You are surprised to hear the toothy voice of Astrud Gilberto and the smooth saxophone breath of Stan Getz in this place. In this place of mine. ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ and I do not match up in your mind. But I tell you that we have much to learn about each other and we aren’t in any hurry. So let’s begin.

We have never danced like this together before. We have never even thought about dancing like this together before. Something about the idea seems wrong, like we are breaking some rules based upon our short past together. We both secretly wonder if we require some separate direction.

Then you smile at me like I’ve never seen you smile before. You smile like I always wanted to see you smile. You are letting me know that you trust me now and that you will begin to reveal who you really are to me. And I am honored by your trust. And I wonder if I should have held back a little. But I know that’s not me, so I forget the notion.

You throw your head back and put your hands in the air and move your hips to the intoxicating beat. The beat that goes on and on even after the music stops. On and on into the distance, over the hills, joining the night sounds. On and on in your head as you put it down on your pillow when the evening has ended. The evening that I hope will end a certain way.

You move without effort and with utter perfection. Music and motion and flesh in heavenly harmony. Almost forbidden. I know that I am witnessing something that few have ever seen before. I cherish this moment and wish against the laws of the universe that it would last forever.

And as cool as I pretend to be I am struck dumb at the sight of you and your curves and your hair, your glorious locks, and your utter abandon, in this place. This place of mine, this earthly escape. This place that hides all of my secrets, tucked away from the world. This place I share with few but I share freely with you.

And I am struck again, as the moment stands still as if frozen in the waterfall of time, this vision of you in motion with the music, lit just so in my chamber, and my vision rotates around you and around the room, but I’m still looking at you. Then I return to my body as you grab my hand.

I like to dance. But I’m sheepish because my style can not compare to yours. But I know if I can just relax and join you that all will be fine because I know I can make you smile and laugh. And I can play that song over and over again until we tire of it.

And I know that song so well, and you laugh as I display all of my rooster-dance moves that I’ve been perfecting over the years at the weddings and bathroom mirrors.

We both like to dance. I like to kiss. And I hope you like to kiss too. The promise of a kiss lingers in the night air, hanging like a fog, penetrating everything. But we will get to that eventually. And if I don’t kiss you for six months, just the promise will press me onward. For now, we are dancing…

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