As every opportunity, it’s spinning further from me.
I do not know the tune, and now I fear I’m losing rhythm,
If I lose my mind, none will speak my tongue,
And so I commune regularly; just me, my thoughts, and I.
What is this odd constraint, that binds my every will?
A familiar frozen heart, is paralyzing me again.
Distant are the stars, that twirl to the music,
And teary are the eyes, I’m confined to view them through
Is it fault to not request, a woman to the floor?
Is a man, so somewhat less, if choosing to ignore:
That desire of her heart, to be asked and taken spinning?
Selfish are the reasons that I stay here pensively.
So for a brief respite, I now venture to the floor,
For a single moment, of the many passed before.
And yet, after being, watching again collects me,
As I find, my desire, isn’t to be dancing.