We promenade. Sliding my hand in his, his arm braced in position, his hand on my back, my left hand nestled in the crevice of the muscles of his arm, he leads and I follow as we travel across the room.
Heads turned looking across the room... step, step, stop. Our heads whip around and we lock eyes. Does he know he exhilarates me? In our minds we are counting and learning new steps together and we are having the most fun.
What is this magic of stepping into this building? This large room wrapped in mirrors, wooden floors, chandeliers over head, and small tables and chairs on the outskirts for dancers to sit. We walk in with the promise of connecting and learning something new and passionate together.
We come home, open a bottle of wine, turn on Tango music and practice some more.
Does he know he's my home? His hands, his embrace, his kiss, his laugh, our conversations, this foundation we are creating. I step in his arms, slide my hand in his and am trusting him to lead, because I am all in.
This promenade is a dance between body and soul.
