I hold her hands and
look into her eyes as we sway,
swing and sweat across the room

Her dark hair is lifted by the air as
she twirls and twists
about. Her red dress,
dancing below her knees and
clinging to her chest, follows
her every move

Her quarter-inch heels,
recently cleaned, looking mighty crisp,
click and clack across the wooden and
worn flooring

My, she is
gorgeous.

I glance away from her
brown eyes and see
the room spinning
‘round and ‘round

We move so quick,
so fast, so

The room spinning
'round and ‘round
and nothing
seems
together

Her moves don’t seem to
reflect mine
Mine don’t seem to
move her

But
My, she is
gorgeous.

The room spins and time
winks at her and then I
What will come when the dance
is more than a room?

when still nothing seems together
but there is more to be kept as one
There’s her and I
and jobs and geography
and rings and promises
and diapers and bills

Her eyes look to mine and ask
what the future holds
“Us and I don’t know, but
lets talk and see,” I said.

And we move so fast and quick
her hair floating with the air
the doors and windows and paintings
and friends fly by
Everything seems sort of
together

And
My, she is
gorgeous.