The Dance

The floor pulses as his heels hit the floor — It is not long before his shadow consumes hers. The oxygen leaves the room when he speaks – his words red A rosy blush rushes across her bemused face While wisps of freed tendrils now sway Against a strained ruby stained - half open smile, the windows to her soul no longer quite so open. He speaks and her eye caress the floor His taut sharp smile causes her to sway Her friends offer opinions, and solicit hers Soft murmurs cover truths she cannot yet face While her vision is rose colored he sees only red