We matched our steps in dance precise.
His lead lacked flaws, I followed quick.
The music flowed like wine. The shine
was blinding. Sweat, a lifetime’s work?

A friend who glided perfect once,
divorced. Her dull porcelain cup
in hand. Some talk of law and bills.
Not the stars’ motion, only ours.

1 Comment

  1. I thought it might be a ode to joy, but really its an ode to progression. :) My how things can change and out heads become unstuck out of the clouds.

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