Dance MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown


I told you to dance.

Yet you remain rigid,

your thin, gawky arms grazing the velvet of

your short, ebony-colored dress.

The room swirls about you,

laughing and shrieking with excitement.

Bare arms and long neckties,

abandoned spiked pumps, curly pinned-up tresses.

You notice none of this as

music shouts in your face,

and you refuse to be engulfed

in its invisible voluminous body.

All the other girls dance,

yet you refuse.


I told you to dance.

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