Maybe it's always Maybe.

Wishing I could write truthfully here

The answer to the question "When did you stop dancing?"


I could write truthfully.


I choose not to.


I am not a victim here

Or anywhere else.


Just maybe lost the way

Lost the connection.


And though I know the way back,

Choose not to take that path.


Because it is too long,

too difficult.


It takes too much of me.


When "me" is so stretched,

and so taut,

that  "me" may snap,

and that the snapping may not be the most melodious.


Maybe because "me " snapping raised not an eyebrow already.

Was hardly noticed.


Maybe  "me" snapping was not enough,

Maybe some more might just raise up a whole orchestra to play music they will listen to

Or maybe they will still not listen.

My music.

Maybe.

Maybe the listening is not important.

Maybe it is the making of music that matters. 


I will you know.

I can you know.

Just dare me. Just push me some more.


Then maybe I would know the answer to the question.

"Do you know how to dance?"