The Dance

Sometimes it's a waltz.

Steady and flowing,

Measured in beats;

Nothing new happens, everything repeats.

Occasionally it's salsa:

Upbeat and fun.

Infused and electric,

Moving as one.

Or when it's swing,

Flying and teasing.

Laughter abounds

But rarely does reason.

Usually it's ballet

Subtle and smooth,

Darting away from you

As in a chess-move.

It's silly to think this way

I'm well aware,

But I wish you'd just dance with me.

Dance and not care.