The Lonely Dance

A lonely girl dances

yearning for passion

out of breath, her weak knees about to give.

A thousand miles away

stands the one who said goodbye

straying away from their meticulously laid out path.

She stands in the isolating spotlight,

and extends her hand to vulnerability,

but it is weakened by an intangible weight.

Still, she keeps her head held high,

feeling the rhythm,

her soul permeating her skin,

provoked by her pursuit of happiness.

Telling the story of solitude,

the emptiness slipping past her shaking finger tips,

but she regains her strength.

Spinning ‘round in circles

as the lonely dance goes on

with no end.

Harsh feelings glance off her reflection in the mirrors.

She stumbles, fights the gravity that brings her down

and deftly corrects her brief imbalance,

dancing herself a momentary freedom from reality.

She stares at the floor in defeat

gathering the strength she has left

for she will dance the same dance tomorrow

in an effort to perfect it

exchanging one meticulously laid out path for another

She feels the cool perspiration at the base of her spine,

tension seeping from her overworked muscles

love and beauty meeting

only to separate,

to meet again

in the passion of the dance.