Our feet together,
they step in time,
gentle footsteps,
intertwine,
yielding memories,
forthcoming hope,
endangered circumstance,
thoughts, hearts, pump, grow.
I know the understanding I have is
too right,
that the assertions made shall
linger into the night,
hands held,
palm to palm,
they know,
intuitively speaking,
they meld,
we meld,
complex love disarms,
its truths it is singing.
We are not borne of wind
nor shore,
we do not trail the sand of
distant moors,
we enlist the capacity of a
united front,
our waltz is independent of others,
desperate need will not depart.
So, I cling to you,
and you latch onto me,
holding us together,
our pieces join so lovingly,
there is little to say further
on the matter,
the county knows our hearts’ patterns
by now,
we are wild circumstance and longing,
our youthful love
steals the show.
So, quieten down now,
these wild-footed, sweeping beats,
gentle taps now,
our sweet soft melody,
our beat, our rhythm,
our precious time,
taken in as our developmental style,
we shall remain together,
despite all paraded before us,
protests spoken all the while,
our bond is special,
it reassures us.
Who knew we’d be present, together,
after all this time?
Ached through much,
years of frenzied dance,
yet remaining palm to palm,
an intricate understanding,
a gentle touch,
our voices now,
we sing in rich key,
beautiful duet —
an honourable melody.
Richness of understanding,
how well you know me,
our interactions are made with
the smoothest of ease,
our version of love blossoms,
like wildflowers, it grows with speed,
some don’t understand us,
but we’ve nothing to prove,
it’s our land,
our world of in-between,
that we inhabit and waltz through
with joy, so freely.
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Andrew from Pexels
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