I remember those feverish samba nights.
We were dancers then,
tapping our soles on floors that shone
with spilled drink, flinging
our longings into the night.
I cannot remember if the flame
caught first in your
crucible or mine.
The moment a cell divides, the world
sings for something new
and not so new
Listen!
Keep one eye on the beauty,
you say, one
eye on the
pain
Now that our fingernails grow long with worry
and the gravity
of love, speak
to me of the dance,
for there is only
the dance, nudge
my hips into the sway
of the wind, let my heart
lose its weight
in your hands
Text and photo by Junyi Chew