Dance ~ a poem by Julie Forsey

I don’t know your name
but I know your body,
how you move and turn and trace
the story of your life before my eyes.

Electrifying space,
I feel your passion, your grace,
the wisp of tenderness
you weave upon the air.

And after, when I change
my clothes from red and gold
into streetwise black, I smile,
and fleeting, meet your gaze:

Should we talk and get to know
How do you do – and what?
Should we risk the conversational moves
and dare to find each other boring?

Or should we leave alone and let
the beauty of our dance speak for itself?

Julie Forsey