Week 17

There is this uncertainty
between you and me,
as if the thread that binds us
is so very delicate and thin.
I can barely see it
wrapped around me and you,
and the music is playing
and keeps on playing so we dance.

I tread more carefully than you do.
My steps are cautious
but direct and firm.
"Stop twirling," I said,
"you'll break it."
You didn't hear me
or at least you pretended not to,
you danced and danced away.

How scared I was
that our connection would dissipate
in an instant.
One second tied together,
the next, you have floated away
to a different planet
while I stayed here
waiting, watching, wanting.

Somehow, you are still here
and I am still here.
Maybe I should let go,
sink into this moment,
trust this fragile thread that binds us and survives us,
move in time with you
and perhaps without you.
I know I will make it anyway.

It's just that I would rather risk less,
stay here silently,
frozen in time
with you.