Trying to convince herself she was right,
the notepad she brought to the dance floor was useless
there is motion, there is stillness, there are ones who sway in between
both and she cannot jot down the number of times
light changes from blue to green, beats per minutes to her heart
she can only know on her skin. Crawling a loss of words
in the way he lifts her, a vase, careful not to drop her
the way he teaches her to walk blind, in the rocking
of everyone else, to a rhythm, like breathing.
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