
She stops at the top of the stairs to adjust her mask.
Looks down at all the hungry men waiting for her,
Watching her descend as they lick their lips in anticipation.
She nods at a mysterious fellow.
He bows gracefully and she takes his hand.
He spins her round and round
As the floor clears to give them space.
All is in the rhythm of the dance
All is in the rhythm of the heart.
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Published by kendalllacey
"The nature of uncarved blocks, is how to describe what's hard to describe."
Welcome to my world of poems, poets, dreams, dreamers, music and movies.
I love Manic Street Preachers, Jonas Brothers, Sylvia Plath, Bret Easton Ellis, WWE, AEW, KISS, My Chemical Romance, Disney, Batman, Steinbeck, Wilde, Camus, Rimbaud, Eli Roth, FINNEAS and Mike Wazowski.
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