The Writer's Life: Film & Book Reviews, Observations, and Stories
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The Dance

That first cautious kiss
Ending in a cul de sac of my own making
Though once oriented
I explored every angle and crevice of your body
Because you willed it, not because I did.
How strange to be a man in reference to woman
More opposite than night
More impenetrable than mist rising from fields at dawn
Features suddenly made perfect
Endless longing, bright desire, a brief glimpse of home
With you anticipating every move.