The Dance

Illumination comes only
     From the far side of the room,
A faintest glint of yellow
     Amidst the blackness and the gloom.
No thoughts or feeling left
     Except anticipation so pure;
Let the music play—
          Whilst they stand now,
     Dance, they shall, soon.

His touch on her, a delicate caress
     Upon her skin;
Cradled, she is, gently
     Like a fragile figurine.
And as she lay her head upon 
          his chest,
     He held her close;
The circle closed by their embrace
     Became, to them, the world.

The first of many notes play on,
     A song from long ago,
A lullabye of broken promises
     And bitter loss;
So soft, and yet it scratched the scabs
     Of wounded memories,
And flared the pain of hurts
     She most not want to reminisce.

He raised her face, to his surprise,
     Tears welled from her eyes;
The most sincere and honest gesture
     In a place of feigns and lies.
Should he, could he comfort her?
     —no, she pushed away,
Mumbled an excuse, as if ashamed,
     And left in haste.
									
A mystery of life, up to this day,
     He can’t digress,
How he found admiration
          —attraction?—
     in that moment of her weakness.
Is it compassion? Is it pity?
     Is it love that’s doomed to fail?
‘Cause if it is, oh,
     the consequences it entails.

It’s closing time, last call for
     Goodnight kiss before they part;
Tomorrow comes to sell love
     To another’s waiting arms.
So in a day or two, what’s been today
     Won’t ever matter,
For when the music stops
     Then the dance is truly over.

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