You advance
and take the floor, extend me your hand and ask for a dance. I gently refuse. Dancing
with you would be dangerous. I am sure I would like it. However, our rhythms
won’t match, I know it. I will step on you
You take a
stroll around the room and I do too. We find other partners.
We meet
again. Again you ask. Again I refuse.
The songs
play by and we are delighted in each other’s company while listening, I watch
you dance and you watch me in turn. You are a good dancer.
You ask me
again. We are friends, you say, it will be ok if you step on me. I go for it. But
the song stops suddenly.
When you
walk out of the room away from where I am standing on the dance floor waiting
for the next song, you step on my foot instead.
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