Ehe, I met a boy tonight at dance class.

Ballroom Fainting

This new boy is sweet and shy

Tall and tan

The way his hands burn fingerprints into the curve of my back

He makes my mind wash away,

Like footprints left on a shore for high tide to claim

The steps, the rhythm, boxes, my frame,

circles, pivots, turns, relax, control

I can do it by myself

I can do it with our coach

So why do your arms make this dizzy dance so awful

Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ, it’s hot in here…

Is that A) the burn of our energy,

B) the lack of air conditioning,

D) None of the above,

I’ll bet it’s smug little C)

Which reads:

The way you look at me,

The way your hands are sweating as they hold mine

It’s good though, healthy

The way we’re all committing romanticide