She swayed with grace and poise
As if she were created by the hand of degas:
A still beauty brought to life
Like a glorious swan that swims swiftly
Or like a fluttering butterfly flapping through the clouds.

In my mind you moved.
Your feet tapped on my heart and the lub-dub of my soul sped
A slight inclination to always imitate the You that danced in my mind  
A greater inclination to reminisce about our younger selves and our younger pains
Overpowered by an antipathy so strong that it caused even my greatest of inclinations
To dwindle and halt.