Midnight Tango

She touched my shoulder so I rolled over.
Silky skin and warm lips met me,
calmly building to a tender conversation.
A touchy subject was on the agenda
and it led to quarrel.

Too stubborn to surrender;
bitterness forced me to roll back over.
Silence engulfed me as I shed one, tiny tear.

Right or wrong is not the issue.
Signs of caring predominantly glow in the dark
like an aura surrounding me,
protecting me from the black argument
I am dealing against.

Back-to-back is not how games are played.
Head-to-head, not one player may stray.
But differences of opinion are force fields
not allowing any pleasant words to slip through.

Regret, shame, confusion.

Again she touched my shoulder
but this time I didn't roll over.
It takes two to tango
but I no longer fell like dancing.