If you’d just hold out your arms and lead;
force feed my feet to eat up the floor and once I - promise -
find that rhythm I will tip the tables and turn them so you’ll
be led in a waltz around the place, until your head is hidden by your hair and the dub-step-house-trance coming from the speakers turns to Mozart’s fifth, a symphony that features woodwind and strings in an endless kiss.
Will we dance to all four movements? you say
Yes, until we become a dance floor nuisance, something more than a blur and an illusion and we're asked to leave.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
If you’d just hold out your arms and lead;
force feed my feet to eat up the floor and once I - promise -
find that rhythm I will tip the tables and turn them so you’ll
be led in a waltz around the place, until your head is hidden by your hair and the dub-step-house-trance coming from the speakers turns to Mozart’s fifth, a symphony that features woodwind and strings in an endless kiss.
Will we dance to all four movements? you say
Yes, until we become a dance floor nuisance, something more than a blur and an illusion and we're asked to leave.
coffeeshoppoems.com
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