Pas de Deux

He like a soldier walked back and forth but was more of a dancer,

He said words and I listened.

The room was cloudy and he was blurred, I followed orders, I danced and marched, the right way to pas de deux in his arms.

And he was thirsty for poetry and love as is any child, and I danced and molded my self and words to his charms.

He handed me a coffee, said some louder words and I was his student, so I danced and wrote poems and learned the recipes.

A silly little thing that never knew love, but thought of meeting it.

Don’t look at me like that, say something – He expects to be filled.

So I dance, and I recite every learned poem, and I made the warmest coffee, and I repeated all of it without stumbling over my feet.

But I don’t know what to say though I meant it.

He dances away again as I, overwhelmed, drown.