the fifty year old virgin….so to speak

You seem to dance with me
and I wonder why.
I surely dance with you
and also wonder why.
We
do not touch,
we
do not talk.
I never hear you breathe,
smell your breath,
or fall into your neck and hair,
when I pass
the edge
and fall.
And
I wonder why.
Do you imagine,
the way I imagine,
your perfect body
upon my bed
surrendered?