You asked me to dance,
quite innocently.
You followed me to the dance floor
and took my hand in yours.
Your fingers interlocked with mine
and we moved – a respectable distance apart.
We talked lightly, joked and laughed
as you guided me – you were a great lead.
I quickly learned your style
and we danced quite easily.
The music moved us.
We glided across the floor.
We shared a love for song,
a love for dance.
What could the harm be in
such as simple as that?
Fingers laced together
and swaying as if we were one.
It was far too soon over,
our single dance was done.
What made me accept
your invitation
when dancing with another man
had been forbidden me?
Did you know how intoxicating
that brief encounter would be?
Was it just that I had not
danced a slow dance in so long?
Was it you, or the moment,
or was it that sentimental song?
Answers have become to me
an illusion
and become cloudier
with each passing day.
The next time I see you
what will I say?
I belong to another
and so do you.
I know it was just
a silly dance.
I know it meant nothing more
than that to you.
But me?
I can’t get that feeling
out of my mind.
I hadn’t felt so special
in such a long time.
There is a longing ache,
for something that will never be.
Just because you asked me to dance.
Quite innocently.
Michigan Mary 