Turning in revolution

I remember watching his fingertips
Drawing with charcoal on a tablet
A landscape of hills and trees
Not smeared, diffused

I remember watching his lips move
Silently singing along to headphones
Forming words he knew by heart

Now everything is changing
As we dance to shared music
We are turning
In revolution

The room swirling around us
All his movements are mine
With no one watching

_{title from waking light-Vienna Teng}