Forever September 21

There were a couple songs she danced to more joyfully than others,
that spark in her eye when she heard them coming on, leading me,
my feet sliding onto the floor, mirrored balls flashing colors over
my quivering body, my head shaking, my mouthed no, no, nos,
she would laugh away, even knowing how I’d make a fool of myself
and let her down again, not keeping pace with my fluid ballerina.
Awkward, my inauthentic moves, a ’70s doctor so dull edged
he’s just in tune with leeching technique and foot-binding theory.
And everything I’d say to get my way off this awkward path
choked into cries only I could hear, weak protests in poorly played asides,
sadly not sounding to her amid all the music even like murmurs of affection.
That was us then, and now those disco nights still echo goodbyes.
After all these years I can choke on those protestations,
and wish I’d danced somehow so I’d never seen our parting ways.