Last Dance
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They waltz against the dark , offstage
Within a tearing pinch of light;
A pitch-black room …entrenched in rage
Was once the velvet cloth to skin,
Now ripped apart by hems of spite
As numbness dries low breaths, so thin
Frigid the steps…locked in a cage
Pale music on iced fingertips,
That dancing goodbye twirled with age
When frozen love changed to chagrin.
Smell of lilacs, damp as old page
Bitter this
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2015
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