The Dance

I step back,
And you step forward
Then we go into the quarter turn.
It seems this dance seems familiar
That we have done this all before.
And we have.
We dance, never too close
Never too far.
With my hand delicately on your back,
Swirling and twirling
In a dance that someone else made.
I see you in your dress
I see the chandeliers
But I think about this dance.
We could break out of this,
We could run away
From properly placed hands
And inches apart.
But we pretend that we have no alternative
That this dance is the way we are
I could break into a trot of my own
And see if you follow.
I could spin around the room
Sweeping you into my arms
Pulling you closer and closer
Until we might as well be one.
But I would fear the look in your eye
The way that you would struggle against my chest
And the way you would cringe at our as we stepped together.
I wonder if I am the only one
Trapped by this dance?
If you even see it at all.
I hold your back politely
And keep my distance
Because, to you, I would never be able
To apologize for breaking the dance.
I could never look in your eyes
To see that you didn't love me
I would let you sit there, angry and confused
Unwilling to talk or even see,
And only then I would lean over to you and say:
"I should have never asked you to dance."