The Politics Of Dancing

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.