I cannot. and a part of me
worries over what is said for men who are
unable to shake themselves, who carry around invisible weights.
to the side on a bench away from the sway I have watched it coming cooly,
like confidence strolling across a
well lit room. I have seen it take other men,
slip them across the line that
divides so thinly what is sensible and not so. it
is rust in reverse, the old falling
away. the ability to give in and be
alright.
I can't explain this need we
feel to move. to hold and to be held and to be
moved. and I can't explain why I see
your face in so many women I meet, why in so many songs I'm hearing
your name. I cannot dance and they are
playing our song and again comes the line that
divides us. it is the same line I've watched
with suspicion so many times, when life ceases to be about
what we can gain, becomes what we're able to let
go. it is the line I've danced
around.