Almost like i found:
a new heartbeat,
a secret song;
ballerina slippers
that have been twirling all along
tungsten lit ribbons
of road and memory,
born-- entwined together--
of sun-kissed revelry.
crimson banners of wonderment
hung against stark white walls
lit in tones reserved for art,
silence echoes through the halls.
footsteps seem to disappear
in the hush of fallen laughs;
crimson bleeds into the white heart
and the whole engulfs the half.
twirling, still; spinning yet
it's time to rush away
a burning thrill; a french sunset,
the night consumes the day.
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