Midnight Dancing

You probably won't remember why you awoke so upset, for the first time in a long time last night. Maybe you were sad or lonely.

Or scared.

You probably don't know how I had just fallen asleep not long before I heard your cry, and how my head seemed stuck to the pillow.

You probably won't remember that you reached out to me before I even entered the room, because you knew that I would come.

I will always come.

You probably aren't aware that the space between my neck and my chin was made to cradle a tired little head just perfectly.

You probably don't know that the smell of the top of your little head tucked under my chin is my favorite.

You probably won't remember how we swayed back and forth under the stream of streetlight on your floor.

Just as we have done a million times before.

You probably don't realize that I continue to hold you long after your body goes limp against my chest and your breath slows.

You probably don't know that our midnight dancing is coming to an end.

Or maybe you do, so you continue to save a dance for me, even when it seems you are through.