ginn-m

Is there a mystery more wondrous than a dance? With hand in your thin-fingered hand to whirl, To glide, to hold, to sense, to glance, To yearn for you and nearly die of it. Unspoken words, betrayed by fickle eyes, Which make us tremble like two silver strings. Forgotten memories of sweet, forbidden crimes, Short walks along the edge of fiery pit. The world around dissolves, cast out of sight By melody, by closeness of two hearts, There's no time, no life for two, entwined In ethereal and enchanted dance. We drink in this intoxicating blend. Oh, if this dance could last without end!