10-Line Tuesday

August 5, 2014

after the revelry, the reverence

The dance floor was a delirious tumble, the room heating
with each collision. Trips were made to the makeshift bar.
By the time dessert was served, barely anyone was sitting
down. Even Jean, in her shyness, shimmied closer to the center.
 
But it was the last song I was waiting for. Just us,
barely swaying to the tune, lights down to a single bulb, guests
gathering their things for the night. How in the end, it comes to this:
what we make in our quiet hours, what catches fire after the bursts
and blaze of flame. Her cheek lay against my chest. I touched her hair.
The space between us closed for good. We floated in that prayer.