In Time
And then, somewhere in the second verse, something old woke up.
His hand remembered the small pressure at my back that meant turn, and my feet remembered to trust it, and for about eight bars, before the song ended, we moved together the way we used to, easy, wordless, in time.
It was not long.
The song ended and we stood there in the kitchen a little embarrassed, not quite looking at each other.
But both of us were breathing like we’d run somewhere.
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