Forehead to Forehead, Chest to Chest

If tango is a sad thought
Pairs of people dance, what is
That thought about? Why so sad?

To fully articulate
Thoughts in choreography
Would kill the dancing’s beauty,

Would turn steps into discrete
Combinatorial signs
And syntactical gestures.

It’s that hovering between
Bodies being bodily
And mind on the brink of words

That makes for the most intense
Expression, especially
Since it cannot be expressed,

Never exactly. That drop
That never spills over, cry
In the night, but then silence,

That sense of almost knowing
What it is that you’re feeling,
Knowing you’re never knowing.