BEFORE THE WALTZ by Christian Wallace
This is a memory of hands
fumbling their new task of coordination,
an unsure mouth subtly engulfs the ear
without holding a whisper. A whisper
becoming less than the lack of breath.
The lack of breath the width
of fingers seeking a horizon,
praying that they might find no end.
Our younger selves sought understanding
in the other’s self. Ignorant of burdens
that might be placed upon a lover’s head.
The lover’s head, simple then, without expectation
or comparison, adorned only by a garland of thrill
at being touched and being the skin burning skin.
Unaware we were not waltzing, but stumbling
felicitously on a backseat dance floor,
knowing only this: we were dancing.
//ww
fumbling their new task of coordination,
an unsure mouth subtly engulfs the ear
without holding a whisper. A whisper
becoming less than the lack of breath.
The lack of breath the width
of fingers seeking a horizon,
praying that they might find no end.
Our younger selves sought understanding
in the other’s self. Ignorant of burdens
that might be placed upon a lover’s head.
The lover’s head, simple then, without expectation
or comparison, adorned only by a garland of thrill
at being touched and being the skin burning skin.
Unaware we were not waltzing, but stumbling
felicitously on a backseat dance floor,
knowing only this: we were dancing.
//ww