The sound of the beat,
The rhythm of our breath as we…
Our motion consuming us,
We become lost,
Until the world is not what we know.
Things began to fade,
Just us in the fog of our tango,
My hand in yours,
And your other hand on my back
Your skin against mine as the color fades
We become lines on the music sheet
Just black and white
Fading on the final beat.