Archive
05/16/11
Slow-Dancing
Walking at a slow, unfocused clip, at a low elevation, On one of this fitness center's treadmills, I listen, on my iPod, over and over and over, To "Touch Me When We're Dancing." The hauntingly romantic lyrics Of Karen Carpenter's rapturous, fluid swoon Draw me into a fantasy of dancing nude with you, Though you're a thousand miles away And won't be home until late tomorrow afternoon. Gradually, I feel my feet moving to the music, My body gliding into a sway, My blood humming "let your love flow through me"... The two of us holding each other close, Our hearts beating together, slow-dancing.
05/16/11
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