reciprocity for as long as we both shall live.

we'll dance
in dimly-lit church basements
to the classics of our time
with a 50-year old disco ball hovering over us.

and i'll remember back in the day
when i sat and watched
and smiledat the exchanges of existence
as if they were all alone,
as they swirled to the music
unaware of the sighing watchful eye.

this will be our happiness:
built by dinner dances in basements,
quiet restaurants with torn leather seats,
moonlight patio dinners,walks in the fall,
good mornings and good nights,
kisses and raspberries,
and a word unspoken but often understood,
and a look that forever redeems.

and as we slowly amble back
to our white plastic chairs
you'll look down at me,
smile and say,
we've still got it.
and i'll lightly punch you jokingly,
as i've always had:
yes indeed.