It’s permissable to dance because you enjoy it but it’s less truth than fact.
It calms the mind.
Changes it and molds it into a direction.
Gives it position totally unrelated to it’s start point.
Something about a shadow or a light.
Maybe a moth but never a flame.
A delicate game.
Conjoined in matrimony.
Betwixed until death.
©G.P Williamson 2017