Order of the Dance

The Dance Card is, me'thinks,
an attempt to choreograph life --
human interaction by design more in tune
with Torquemada than Gene Kelly …
but I am game for anything,
or I should say everything
that the soul can envision over mind.

So I suggest a change of rules
such that everyone can participate,
and even I, who has spend some time
as wall flower to demons of the Prom.

The men, not the girls, will stand in form,
spotlit pose of rippled muscles,
before a placard printed bold
with list of vital information,
like net worth and view on abortion --
last book read and story 'bout his mother.
Each musing lady will fill in their Card
on every other line, to fill each fantasy
and desire (and prompting from others unseen).

Then the 'gentler set' will take their turn,
posing on a dais in gown or costume
of their choice and whim revealing,
before a similar scripted placard
of focused intent and passion --
such that the alternate lines on the Cards
are filled with braided fancy and illusion
coached by culture and sitcom drivel
of what the perfect dance will be.

Then comes the surprise!
Each Card is placed in a crystal bowl,
from which each dancer will select but one,
and spend the night living a dream --
not caring it is crafted by others --
and as a mating ritual it will serve
as well as any other then or now,
as you will never know if your partner
is found divine by chance or intent --
it being a costume ball, after all.

And I --
found still standing against the wall,
empty Card un-noticed on the floor?
I will find another abandoned by the rules;
and together we will dance amidst the flowers
to the symphony of laughing stars --
ever thankful that Dance Cards
are keeping others spinning -- swirling
in the fantasy of night.