I wanna dance around my kitchen with you,
letting the music move us,
spinning my head until
my hair clings to the light sweat on my brow
catches in my eyelashes
and I blame my dizziness on the spins.
I want you to jokingly shake your hips
and be a surprisingly good dancer.
I want you to hold out your hand
and not expect me to actually take it,
to put your hands on my hips and
sway me with your fluid movement.
I want you to laugh at me and kiss my cheek,
twirl me around,
then drop me off at my door with a twinkle in your eye.
Dizzy
