The walls tower over me and shake me with intimidation.
My bare feet pressed on the cold marble ground.
I'm waiting for you.
I trace my fingers tips along the stone framework, in wonder at all the glory of this capacity.
Pillers standing hire than where my eyes can reach.
Stairs reaching places I can't even imagine.
I wait for you in this ballroom.
No matter how many times I'm invited, I can't help but marvel in the alluring radiance of this room.
Ever so gently you silently grab my hand and we begin to twirl.
Forever it seems but never getting dizzy.
What a gentleman you are.
This room.
Your hands.
My beating heart.
*You are my King.