Fox's Glade In Restless Dreams, I walked Alone

Oh, she liked the sound of that. Reverie giggled softly and drew him closer, and the world narrowed to only them. Dancing, like all things, was quite different with a partner. She was aware of every step he took, each warm point of contact between them as she led him into a dance like the steady strum of rain. Aware, too, of her own deliberate movements; careful at first, the quick turn of her feet and the sway of her hips, but she didn't hold back for long. He kept up well.
And so they moved together, and the boundaries blurred and faded until Reverie could not separate herself from the dance or the dance from Arric. Bound in the kind of art that could only be felt, like a jeweler's pride in gilded obsidian. She felt she truly knew him then, if only for this moment. How could they become this and still be strangers? Beauty made tangible; purity personified. All that was good and right in the world put to heat and frenzy and boiled down to this — to ecstasy.
To say that dancing was a spiritual experience for Reverie was perhaps an understatement.