Dance

I woke up with the words “I love you”, on my lips Then a touch on my shoulder on sitting straight Smoothly brushed my right shoulder in a caress The same blood-stained hands! You almost did scare me! They didn’t seem to have ever been pierced Enough for the ‘crimson flow’ to gush out easily I wiped out the corner of my lower lip Free from the liquid of sweet-sleep “Can I have this dance?” So insistent, yet lovingly tender How beautiful and natural the strands of his hair were! He didn’t need wisps of hair smoothed off, no wisps! I could’ve said “Seems you’ve had your bath” Now I know why “Firstborn from the dead, lives never to die anymore” Large, grace-filled eyes easily gathered rivers He took my hand in a dance I’d never known No thanks to not being a dance-person Without definite beat or music that I heard His heart’s beat would’ve been sufficient. One thing

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