slow songs

you know, i haven't slow danced
since the sixth grade.
no one's ever asked and
neither have i, i suppose.
back then it didnt even count
he just stepped back and forth
as far away as our arms would permit
till his other girl cut in
i thought i cared
but last night the couples
just twos and twos and twos
actually meant something.
not teasing me, though it could have been that
not a reminder that i have no one to slow dance with
and if i did they wouldn't be here
but a reminder of how alone two people can be in a crowded room.
and a reminder how each of them, dancing
held in their arms a whole universe
a whole other person
that person's entire world.

you've got to be careful
when you're holding all that.

and i stood on the edge with my hands
clasped under my chin
i think maybe i was dancing too
with my own memories
memories of skipping across campus
holding hands
or drawing with sweat on a summer dance day
or having lunch with a friend
and sitting hours after we finish
just talking about nothing.
and i forget to be worried.
it's the times i forget that i love to remember
so i was dancing with those memories,
holding them in my arms, gently.
(i have something else to say)
(i'd like to tell someone, anyone, all those stories. all the times i forget)
then they'd be dancing with me too, and carefully, holding me too,
gently.

so if i ever tell you those stories, remember to be gentle with them. you'd be holding my whole world. a whole universe in your arms.
you've got to be gentle
when you're holding all that.