And so for two days we’ve begun to dance once more. Not exactly like old times, and the tempo is slow. But we do both know the connection is alive. We know how, but we’re wary. First stiff then compliant. Eagerness held in check. The steps and the cadence are familiar.
It won’t be a torrid tango of old from the Argentine, and we will never showcase our moves again in prime time. That will remain the property of the archives. But there is little hesitation. Only minor awkwardness.
We’ve begun with the waltz, but it feels comfortable doesn’t it? I have missed holding you like this. An observer would see we move well together. Our movements as one. Your follow to my lead. My pledge to grasp you tight. Not let you fall. Why there might even be a double reverse spin coming up.
Today we saw our reality. We are joined somehow, beyond all reason, above every contradiction.
No manual can explain the intricacies of connection. No logic will solve the mystery. No book able to chart the magic.
There is no how. There is no why. There is what we are.