We danced as if the booze had made
the hips of me the all of me
and no one had ever told me no.
We danced, the cheesy DJ crying out
to the conference press of bodies,
and we – we danced like a moan,
ceiling tiles eavesdropping on our
harsh whispers, thick breath,
Earth, Wind, and Fire. We danced like
c’mon, like distance was for chumps,
out there soothed and washed clean
of the stain of shame, by the power
and glide of song and by your huge
hands, which turned me like slow wine,
your hands unravelling that forever knot
known as tomorrow.