The dance is intense. His eyes control me. His body has me in thralldom.

I know the steps… I’ve danced them dozens of times, with dozens of partners. Sometimes my partners have been practiced and skilled; sometimes I’ve had to take the lead for a while. Occasionally I’ve had my toes trod upon. I’ve even tripped, and barely kept my balance. Mostly, though, the dance has been effective enough, even enjoyable… but often the music stops suddenly, and either I or my erstwhile partner has departed in haste and with little grace.

This time, though, it feels different. The music is somehow a little louder, although it doesn’t drown out the beating of our hearts; I can feel the syncopated rhythm as I am pulled hard against his chest, and it sets us moving together, arms stiff and posed, backs straight, hips and thighs touching, electric. I feel him push me, just a little, and I know I am meant to follow his lead. I do, and I let him see the inquiry in my eyes: “Should I trust you? Can I?” For once, the answer is obvious to me, and I relax, slightly, into the circle of his arms. Usually, about now, I would break eye contact in order to look at my feet. It’s usually challenging for me to keep in step without watching, but not this time. I see and I feel his complete confidence. He demonstrates it as we begin to change direction, our bodies swiveling, his hand drawing down my side as it moves back into position. As we reach the place where we should turn again, instead his hand moves behind me, supports my weight, and I know what I am expected to do.

I lean back. So far back. I am falling, my hair sweeping behind me toward the floor. It’s so far down. I have no power to save myself from potentially crashing in an ungainly and broken heap onto the floor. The thought never crosses my mind though. I know that I can lean, fall, let go, and he will catch me. His strength will save me from disaster. Bent as far back as my body will allow, he holds me in place. His eyes appraise me; he looks for signs that I am beyond my limits. He considers whether I can be allowed to go a little further, or whether it is time to draw me back to upright safety. His hands relax momentarily; I drift minutely downward. Then I am pulled into his arms. We stay immobile for a split second; my breathing begins to return to normal. His eyes stay locked on mine.

And then the dance continues.