Midnight Dance
The motion unwontedly gentle
As if we tango on a silken thread.
Brimming passions, yet subtle
Like an emerald serpent.
The icy December wind
Brings two halves together
In the moonlit rice field
To be their ring bearer.
This dance cannot be taught
The secret is with the mute moon.
Love will be pulling its puppet strings on our hearts
A moment shielded from the stings of ruin.
Nature sings to our hearing
Our soulful sighs scribbles the lyric
Within will be sparks and bursting
As midnight blooms on the wick.
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