a poem by Mark Wakeham, UK

We dance,
Heads bowed, we two,
No eye contact,
Not any more.
Reluctant halves,
Come together,
For one last Waltz,
One last intimacy.

We dance,
As others watch,
In darkened recess,
Nodding the beat,
Counting the steps,
Mourning the end.
One last foxtrot,
One last refrain.

We dance,
And oh, so briefly,
See that spark,
In automatic feint,
One last time,
The Paso Doble,
Hint of smile,
One last chance.

We dance,
And all is lost,
In smoky swirls,
And passionate sneers,
The jutting chin,
Last Tango,
Last hope.

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