Interlaced

Dancing together in the living room —

one step right, one step left,

one arm holding me close,

one arm by your side,

fingers interlaced with mine.

Is this the only time you can be still?

A stammered, soft “love you” as you leave.

And love, reaching out from your fingertips

to touch me.

Love from your hands rubbing my scalp

as you color my hair.

Love from that sideways glance

when I catch a glimpse of the real you.

Love from the questions, the curiosity,

the opening of the book that is me.