Our Innocent Hearts

Let us dance gently.

Festively prancing,

Red cheeks, smoldering.

Spin, dip, We are Free.

Our innocent Hearts,

Bashful reluctance,

Gave in to the Dance,

Missteps and false starts.

Our whirling embers,

Wind-whipped and smoking,

My hands are clutching

Your hips remember

Me.

I’m fascinated by imagery of the dance. Despite being a horrible dancer, I see the power of expression through dance. Given the choice (and a partner) I would be dancing this very moment. You never know, I may be dancing around my house… what do you think of the imagery? About dance?

© CGT, 2017.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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