Our Last Dance

She line dances –

Sliding electrically,

guided by telepathy.

She moves along so effortlessly

to the song my heartbeat’s drumming composes.

I hold her in my hand and we slow dance like lovers

as she draws out of my mind the brilliant colors

of divine melodic movements.

We’ve done this before.

The steps she takes across the floor

leave in her wake a trail of beauty.

Although I lead, it is she that moves me,

and with every dance we share she improves me.

We re-enact Roberta‘s melancholy hit.

We two shall dance no more as she expires softly in my grip.

So I lay her down to rest as she punctuates my script

for the last time with her last breath…

a drop of ink.

-HymnAgen