May I have this dance?

and maybe the next one after that?

Summer, cold and unanticipated, is crawling nearer, and calling and whispering, raising my heart rate with the possibility of more freedom, promising softly that things will be clearer then, and maybe even with some room to take a breath...

And things will be more voluntary when it comes and I will be away more... If I can.
If I let myself.

If I want.