[Spoken Word] Man, you are not the choreographer. You are the ground. Be washed. Be quiet. Be worth circling. If you become restless, the circle loses its center and the dancer has nowhere to return. If she gives you her mouth, or her hands, or the long look that starts both, answer with presence: a sound that does not instruct, a blessing that does not steer, a hand that rests and does not take over the dance. After the wave, keep being the floor. A dancer cannot revere a man who vanishes when the music thins, who becomes ordinary the moment the heat has passed. Stay. That is the harder offering. [Chorus] She offers movement. He offers stillness. That is the union. The floor does not chase the dancer.
