Ball gowns

Two ball gowns will never fit

I met you at the ballroom dance floor. As we both sway like the leaves in the field. Our waists fit perfectly as we glide unto each other’s. Our hands gracefully fold every time it must. Our eyes glitter every moment it collides. Our skin as pure as white and as it touches, everything freezes.

                                            Just want to picture us like the most genuine castle ever built.                                           Like the most unidentified jargon ever existed.                                                                         The greatest painting ever created.                                                                     A greatest discovery science ever innovated.                                                                            Let us be the experiment impossible to succeed.                                                                        And a specie too extinct to preserve.

And, yup like what I said, I met you at the ballroom dance floor.                                      Wearing ball gown. You’re in between of every complicated thing around us.                   You’re the curve in every sculpture. You’re the missing piece of a caricature.                    The stand out color in a black and white mosaic.                                                                     And me was as simple as the bead in your detailed suit.                                                                 But as you look unto me, I felt different.                                                                                   As you laid your eyes unto me, I am different. But no, I was not of course.                               You are laying your eyes unto all of us. It can’t happen to be the most different in the group of uniques.

We dance. 

                                    Like no one’s watching. I’ll step forward and you’ll do the same. I’ll                                     glide my feet and you will too. I’ll grab your waist and you will                                                 smile. Like it was the first time someone touch yours. I learned to                                          believe in that smile. That smile was the most poisonous medicine                                       I’ve ever took, and I’m grateful taking it.  We dance all of the time.                                       Seems like it is our first language. I’ll turn right and you will turn                                           the other way, we will laugh if someone slipped and if wrong, we                                           will repeat. Repeat, and dance, and repeat then dance.

The sun is peeking out. We have to leave.

                                                  And no one’s slipper will be left. There will be no trace of    you will remain, neither us.

                                                      Like what I said, I met you at the ballroom dance floor.                                                         Wearing ball gown. We dance. And just how a dance ends, we                                        will bow. And now, you’re just someone whom I met in the ballroom dance floor and left. Wearing ball gown as I was.


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