four AM waltzMature

Three's a dark enchantment
that hangs between our lips
only long enough to pull your heart
up to your throat.

It leaves the rest to us.

And we'll take the lead,
like a four AM waltz
through territory we claimed
years ago. Never miss a beat.

We know this dance so well.

Now take my hand in yours,
watch carefully not to crush
my fragile state of mind
with your harsh steps.

Oh, but the pattern has begun.

And there's no taking back
what we've done, what you and I
have said; we said we'd never,
never say this all again.

Oh, but history repeats itself.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed