A Study in Observation - Dancing With You

I dance with you to a song that we can only hear in our heads. I wrap my arms around you, interlacing my fingers together. I draw you in and feel your body press against mine. I feel your warmth penetrate through the front of my shirt. The intoxicating aroma of you, a mingling of perfume, flowers, and sweat, swirls in circles around you and makes my knees weak. You lay your head against my chest and I feel my heart start pounding more violently. The seismic rhythms tear through my body like the vibrations of an earthquake. I am sure you can hear every beat, thump, thumping alongside your ear, betraying my innermost emotions. You squeeze me too, and I feel as if I can’t breath. I don’t know if it is so much your arms cutting off my air supply or just my breath catching in my throat at the thought of you being so close to me. I close my eyes and just rest my cheek on the top of your head. My senses are swirling, and I lose the ability to tell where I end and you begin. We are one body, if only for a moment. Almost in sync we start to sway together, like the grass in an unseen wind. Slowly our feet begin to move, left, right, left, right. We take small, shuffling steps, just barely dragging our feet over the top of the carpet. I can feel the fibers tickling my skin. Our bare toes sink into the plush, soft carpet with every step. We are surrounded by a ring of footprints, marking the path of our silent dance.