When We Hear That Old Song We Will Dance

You're not any cooler than me

+and I love it+

You're not taller than me

+and I don't mind it+

You laugh easily and are wonderful to talk to

+and I embrace it+

Last night
I taught you how
to feel the ridges in your fingerprints
and in mine as well.

The rough little swirls that make you different from me.

The code that renders me separate.

{And/we/were/a/little/closer}

You marvelled at our hands

;; the tactility of it all;;

the backward and forward
of our little game.

You wanted to know the science of it
but I laughed gently, took your hand again,

told you: No.

Some people will tell you that when you can't go back

it means you have to travel forward.

But I believe that, sometimes, it's perfectly okay to just sit still

[[ and enjoy the moments between ]]