I saw him on the benches,
wrapped in my jacket tight,
his body shivering with fever,
and his face drawn with fright.I longed to go and snuggle,
to offer him my warmth and care,
but I was practicing my street dance,
and I couldn't leave it there.So I watched him from a distance,
as he slept beneath my coat,
and I felt my heart break open,
with a longing and a hope.I wanted to be there for him,
to hold him close and tight,
to let him know he wasn't alone,
in the brightness of the light.But I had to keep on dancing,
to perfect my moves and style,
to make my dreams a reality,
and let my passion run wild.So I danced with all my heart,
and gave it my very best,
knowing that when I was done,
I could offer him my rest.And when I returned to the benches,
he was awake and feeling better,
and I knew that my street dance practice,
had helped us both weather.For in that moment of separation,
we found a deeper kind of love,
one that could withstand the fever,
and the pain that it does bring thereof.And so I danced and loved him,
in my own special way,
knowing that we'll always have each other,
no matter what may come our way.