They waltz,
Right around you.
Dancing
In rhythm.
Their costumes
Elegant and flowing.

Eye contact
Is avoided-
Except to your partner.
They twirl
And they spin
And laugh
Right in front of you.

Champagne,
Flows freely.
From bottle
To glass,
From glass,
To parched lips.

And they dance.
They dance harder.
And strangely,
With more ease.

The logic-
Like that of a dream;
The more champagne
The more intricate
Their dances become.
The more they laugh,
The more sober,
You are.

The costumes
Appear to grow longer,
As the night
Stretches on.
The elegance fades
Into grotesque
Haunting themes.

The moon and stars
Gently blink out,
One by one.
But the sky doesn’t light
The horizon with dawn.
The morning is still,
Yet ages away.
The sky,
Empty and black.

The champagne
Never ceases to flow.
The couples keep spinning
In and around,
This large
Marbled hall.

There you stand-
The only exhausted,
Itching to leave.
The exit hidden
By patrons unknown.

And you,
The only dancer,
Not dancing.