For my wedding.
Took a lesson.
But I secretly dance every day,
though I guess it’s no longer a secret.
For the dogs,
and the setting shadow
against the back wall.
All attempted rhythms
and contorted shapes,
but my Byrne is spot on.
They know:
if sound and fury
finds a backbeat,
it signifies everything.
And sometimes,
when the song ends
and the room cools again,
I stand still in the quiet.
One breath,
two,
and wait to see
if the house will dance back.
Most nights it doesn’t.
But some evenings,
the dogs catch it:
their paws thump the floor,
their tails swing in time,
and the room moves again,
alive in its own applause.
