This magnificent dance
is done only on occasion.
We put on our dancing shoes
and don't stop.

We dance around this hat
as long as we can
before we collapse in
hysterical sentient.

"Where did this hat come from?" we ask
"What is it made of?"
We never find the answer or bother to examine the hat
so we just dance.

Everyone around us is dancing too,
unaware of how tired our legs are getting.
But they shouldn't concern themselves
with our passionate rumba.

Our Waltz intensifies.
Neither of us knowing how
our feet and legs are suppose
to feel anymore.

We are separated and lose sight of each other,
this dance is becoming turbulent.
Pushed and pulled on the dance floor,
I elbow my way towards the first opening I see.

I burst through the confusion into the clearing
and find you looking at me,
me looking at you,
and the hat between us.

We eventually picked up that hat,
whatever it was made out of,
and shared the privilege of wearing it
and started to dance

The most passionate dance you'll ever see.
Moving as one person now
Our feet are sore, legs weak,
but we have no intention of stopping.

If only the people around us could've witnessed this.
If only they could've stepped out from their own strut.
They would've stopped dead in their ambitious rhythm
and cried.

But between us, it was only us.
Face to face
no more dancing;
Let's Tango.