Curtain Call
Your pirouette had assurance
of a dancer. It spun me
to you and I felt cozy,
so cozy it was easy
to go astray and yes,
your hands: they were
never yours. Port de bras?
Languorous hours tiptoed.
We were in concert
beguiled…
by breeziness
of our ballet.
When did we
put on this weight?