the first dance

there is no
music except for
what we hear
between us, and
now we dance,
once more, around
the room, in
the empty bar
where the waiter
waits in his
white apron, at
the door, and
the chef too,
with his hat in
hand, and they
watch us dance,
and dance, as
the lights go
dim, and you kiss
me again, then
again, as we
try to make this
memory last. it
might be the only
one we have, but
it's good start
and leaves me
wanting more.