As lovers dance across the floor,
fingertips trace fire along skin,
breath mingles
in the hush between heartbeats.

Her back arches to his pull,
his hands steadies the storm
rising beneath her ribs.
Their bodies speak
in a language older than words,
slow,aching,
deliberate.

Eyes close--
not to hide,
but to feel
more deeply.
The music is only an echo
of what stirs between them.

And when the night ends,
the dance will remain,
pressed into memory
like heat on silk.