the worn out shoes
of one who lived to dance
a different dress
for each occasion
for every evening
a new liason
the tango,
the foxtrot,
the waltz,
she danced
them all
twinkle, twirl, embrace,
she never knew his name
she'd soon forget
his face
movements fluid
fast and slow
what folly was this
she didn't know
the laughter
the tears
raw nerves and fear
heartache, ecstasy
all disappear
when she would hear
the music, the steps
would follow every pivot
every turn to wield
and yield and then
return. yet woe
her soles grow thin
hers is a heart
he cannot win
the hem of her dress
hangs from a pin
she never knew his name
she soon forgot his face
the worn out shoes
of one who lived to dance
of one who moved with grace