The light from the streetlamps
Bounced off your perfect shape
My heart caught in a race
With my mind, and by the words
Bounding from my lips
We both knew which was leading
An evening spent in perfect form
Gives way and sheds decorum
We both stood awkward in formal attire
After the dance, a promenade
Each and every fluorescent ray
Shining down on you got my heart beating
The evening is over
The ballroom is empty
Our conventions lay scattered
Across the dancefloor
Speak with your heart
Not with your hips
Discount your mouth
Exhaust your lips
Embrace Solace
Our feet and hearts are sore
Comments on "Promenade"
ah, dances. did you just wait until I couldn't get on to post your poetry?
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