Roses and Cigarettes

Shadows Dance

We were in the middle of the spacious bedroom.
Every piece of furniture was moved to the walls; as if they were nothing but pictures.
We were both wearing black. I was wearing black on my body and he was wearing black in his heart.
My hand, his hand, two inches away in mid air; arms too.
A spin.
Another.
Back to where we were standing.
Two shadows dancing in the middle of an empty space. Haunting the room with my ghostly white skin and his ashy dark soul.
I had a black spot for him. He had a white spot for me.
Ying and Yang.
And with coordinated steps we moved.
One foot forward, one foot backward. Another spin.
My hand moves to his shoulder, two inches above it.
His hand moves to my waist, two inches beside it.
Like two magnets facing the same pole being pushed together. So close but not enough.
The music was soft and the air was musky.
Glimmering of the moon and a twinkle of stars.
But not just those in the sky.