We’ve been dancing for a year now and I still don’t remember what kind of footloose waltz I was doing without you, what kind of melancholy jazz tune I tapped my foot, snapping with the same finger I now use to point out everything I love about you. You have eyes reminding me to pray, a smile that is sunny side up and catches God by surprise, you hold my soul open like movie theater doors, and every night you greet the stars like a bandit, prepared to steal their shine. And yes, I know everything that glitters is not gold, but baby you were born with AU 79 engraved in your soul. I know it’s rude to point darling, but I love everything about you.

We sometimes step out of tune, grooving to the sounds of each other’s heartbeats instead of commercialized instruments one could never mistake as human emotions. Some insist that Taylor Swift writes the best love songs, but I know your heart’s crescendo is the only composer of true love. And I know you don’t like to sing as much as dance or fly as much as walk, but I kind of have a thing for soulful voices and vacationing onto heavens.

We’ve been boogying for a year now and I still can’t fathom what kind of shimmy I was performing without you, what kind of two-step I was perpetrating to enjoy. For as long as I can remember Cupid has been reckless and irresponsible, but from the moment I cut the rug in the ballroom of your heart, I took all my old valentines, doodles hearts on my notepad, one dozen roses, and paid homage to the daredevil naked baby.

We’ve been dancing for a year now and I still don’t remember what kind of footloose waltz I was doing without you, but now I can’t seem to stop dancing.