She moved like she was gliding through the star studded skies.
Her feet transitioning softly, but precise like a flame.  
Swaying to the rhythm like a laced  scarf pinned to a line, in the strong winds of April.
Her hand in mine, so delicately firm, her eyes beaming with the unmistakable sparkle of love.
She danced on, looking at me with a smile that could make dead plants bloom.
So I held her, through her love affair with the waltz.