He grabs my hands and pulls me to the dance floor. We move to the rhythm of the music, the band doesn’t disappoint. I look into his big brown eyes. ...or a second the air feels warmer. I can see myself reflected briefly. Do I look that hungry or is it Mark? Our bodies mirror the rhythms of the music, of each other, of our past. I catch our movement in the mosaic on the wall and the memories move through my spine, memories of movement — standing, kneeling and lying beneath him. He can do more than. Only the light from the kitchen sent a thin light sifting into the playroom.'O.K. Jimmy, just one dance then I have to go to bed Baby. Your mom's wasted." She slurred her words. Taking a huge swallow she put the glass down and put her arms around my neck. We started to move, slowly swaying to the slow beat.I should mention that for a year or more I had been touching her in teasing ways when no one was around. If she were at the stove or sink I would get behind her and put my arms around her. More

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