...and we dance
You can't go back, you've booked the band
So take your partner by the hand.
Baile! - Cha Cha Loco, Joe Jackson
Her great anticipation of my arrival was tamped down only by the ferocity of her preparation. The linen covered tables were set and the centerpieces were perfect. It was almost as if the rulers were out as the place settings varied not one wit from one another. The grandest of halls was rented and the finest of bands was booked. Outside I stood at a distance wondering what to make of it all. As the guests arrived in all of their finery she greeted each one of them with all the warmth she had within her as her smile masked the nervousness wrought by the great anticipation of my arrival.
As couple after couple entered the venue I wondered why anyone, let alone her, would do such a thing for me. I doubted of my worthiness to set foot on the floor of such a grand stage. My best was flawed. My brow deeply grooved. My face marked with imperfections. My attire less than what was demanded by the venue. Should I enter? Why would anyone, let alone her, move close to hold my now yellowed, gloved hands?
Shaking as the last guest arrived and the doors almost closed I somehow found the courage to meet her with who I was and I entered. The band continued to play as the air was filled with disappointment at my appearance and bewilderment that I would dare show myself in the condition I was in. It was far too much. I determined that I would leave...until I saw, in her eyes and smile, the satisfaction of her longing all found in one. All centered on me.
She held out her steady, unwavering, perfect hand and I heard her whisper, "Please." I couldn't help but grasp it. Tentatively at first but soon so firmly and even boldly as we talked and laughed with her guests. She wouldn't let go of my hand the entire night.
And we danced.
And we dance.
So take your partner by the hand.
Baile! - Cha Cha Loco, Joe Jackson
Her great anticipation of my arrival was tamped down only by the ferocity of her preparation. The linen covered tables were set and the centerpieces were perfect. It was almost as if the rulers were out as the place settings varied not one wit from one another. The grandest of halls was rented and the finest of bands was booked. Outside I stood at a distance wondering what to make of it all. As the guests arrived in all of their finery she greeted each one of them with all the warmth she had within her as her smile masked the nervousness wrought by the great anticipation of my arrival.
As couple after couple entered the venue I wondered why anyone, let alone her, would do such a thing for me. I doubted of my worthiness to set foot on the floor of such a grand stage. My best was flawed. My brow deeply grooved. My face marked with imperfections. My attire less than what was demanded by the venue. Should I enter? Why would anyone, let alone her, move close to hold my now yellowed, gloved hands?
Shaking as the last guest arrived and the doors almost closed I somehow found the courage to meet her with who I was and I entered. The band continued to play as the air was filled with disappointment at my appearance and bewilderment that I would dare show myself in the condition I was in. It was far too much. I determined that I would leave...until I saw, in her eyes and smile, the satisfaction of her longing all found in one. All centered on me.
She held out her steady, unwavering, perfect hand and I heard her whisper, "Please." I couldn't help but grasp it. Tentatively at first but soon so firmly and even boldly as we talked and laughed with her guests. She wouldn't let go of my hand the entire night.
And we danced.
And we dance.
Curious...
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