A bit of breathless ground is swallowing me whole
because my rhythmless sway
is digging a hole
through the leather boots we grandly put on display.
For I'm sure all those eyes behind their daring masks
carry a hint of envy
that you dance with me,
and dance with more charming grace than if he has asked.
In the end I'll forget the flashing disco lights,
forget who asks whom to stay,
for I've been away
longer than I ought, but not on this night of nights.
When you dance with me and we talk like old friends do
I begin to remember
after the chill dies, that there is more than me in you.