I was pondering a quote from the Twilight-saga this morning:
The way you move — you orient yourself around him without even thinking about it. When he moves, even a little bit, you adjust your position at the same time. Like magnets… or gravity. You’re like a… satellite, or something.
This is what we do. Me and the wild one. We dance, facing each other and lose ourselves in the intoxicating music.
Always one revolving around the other, always one bouncing off of what the other person does or doesn’t do. There is the re- to the action of the other.
The music never stops, as we face each other for one more dance. I cling to him in a precious hope he won’t let me fall. I trust the process. Falling scares me, but my feet won’t listen. I have to dance.
It’s in me now, and the rythm won’t let go of my body. My partner is familiar, and I grow into the steps he leads me through. I get dizzy sometimes, and the music never fades.
Some melodies are sensual and comfortable, and we wrap ourselves gently into them and dance them to perfection, accentuating beautiful nuances with our bodies.
Other times the tunes are fast and unfamiliar, staccato we stumble through them.
I get a few blisters, and so does he. We change our shoes, and gravitate toward each other once more, hoping the next tune will guide us into …..