have an audience and nestle into the crook of his arm where I already know I fit perfectly. “It’s just a dance.” I glance up at him, and when our eyes lock, my pulse stutters like a polygraph. We both know there is no scenario where we are “just” dancing. I’m excruciatingly aware of how close we are, of the heat of his body against mine while we move together with such ease, it’s like we were never apart.
