The music molds the air in the room.
I take it into my lungs and hold the pose
(I learned to breathe the same way 
I learned to dance: by sitting on the sidelines
And watching the steps)

The music picks up and I search for your
Face in the sea of dancers, both moving 
and still. 
(Because everyone is a dancer --
If you can breathe you can dance,
And if you could take in more oxygen
And dance forever, I think you would)

The music continues and bodies shake, 
Releasing thousands of years of tension
With every step, calculated or spontaneous.
(Sometimes I think everything in this world
Is improvised and those who try to change
their improvisation live in a scripted illusion)

The music hits a steady pace, dancers catch
Their breath as they continue to wiggle.
(I smile because I can feel you somewhere
In this room -- and even if this song ends
There will be another, there will be more
There is already more)

The music slows, reaching its end.
(And that's when I dive into the middle 
Of the sea -- I showed you how to smile 
Underwater and you showed me 
How to swim --
I know I'll find you here, 
Because we still have so much to practice)