River Currents

My Dance

I often find myself enamored with the future.
I know her so well.
You dream of me, she states, her tone sharp like a knife.

She’s right, with her hand in mine.
I dream of a home filled with warmth.
I dream of friends who want me there.
I dream of a life that brings me joy.

She laughs at my thoughts, a strain in her voice.
I don’t want to hurt her, so I shift closer.
She knows me just as well.
I dream of cold streets.
I dream of failure.
I dream of loneliness.

She smiles at me softer now, happily listening to a sound like a clock’s soft ticks.
I want to smile back, but I’m scared.
I know what she wants from me.
I can’t deny her anything,
but she can’t ask anything of me.

This precious dance is hurting us.
She can’t stop without my help,
but I chose to keep moving.