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Ominous Thought

While she dances,
her feet a chiaroscuro
of staccato and glissade

she spirals
into last year’s
arms – his eyes brilliant
blues and greens.
Back to a time

when she knew
she was loved.

Instinct comes and goes,

but as she pirouettes
the world is a prettier place;
a place where dreams
might come to pass

after all.

Is said and done,
she dances

is his lips
on her throat
just below
her ear



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