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the way it moved
The Way They Moved
They met where the paddock dipped to shade,
Two boys with dust along their shins,
Their steps unsure, yet drawn together
As if the ground had called them in.
A faun watched from the edge of sight,
Not guiding, only keeping time.
Its presence stirred the air around them,
A rhythm neither could define.
They circled first — a slow approach,
Each reading how the other swayed.
A shoulder angled, then withdrawn,
A breath released, a pulse delayed.
One leaned as if to test the space,
The other answered with a turn.
No touch, yet something passed between them,
A warmth that made the hillside burn.
Their feet found patterns of their own,
A dance not taught but understood.
A brush of sleeves, a mirrored step,
A closeness neither boy withstood.
The faun stepped once, and so did they,
As if its gait had shaped their own.
Two figures moving in a circle,
Each feeling more than either’d shown.
And when they paused, the dusk grew still,
Their chests unsteady, eyes alight.
Not lovers, not yet anything —
Just boys who’d danced into the night.
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