The Fourteenth

We do this dance constantly- you, with your shiny shoes, me in my red dress. The one with the ruffles.

Back and forth, we glide. One two, cha-cha-cha….

Your logic once again at odds with my sentiment, each of us wielding ancient swords made from the toughest of reasoning, each too stubborn to retreat.

Three four, cha-cha-cha….

The charming recipient of my ire; the reason tears of joy pool in my eyes; the explanation as to why police would find ‘how to strangle someone’ in my Google search.

There is magic between us.

My ever-present dance partner,

I love you.