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Waltzing with a stranger

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I’m waltzing with a stranger in an old ballroom.
His arms wrapped around me I’m stuck to him like glue.
There’s a mirror ten foot, covers the side of the wall.
I watch everything we do, the climbs and the falls.
When we move to the left, I slide down on my feet.
The stranger picks me up where our eyes would meet.
But I’ll stray off to the mirror and touch it with care.
Inside the picture I saw…no one was there.




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