The Dance Poem by Robert Uy

Illumination comes only
From the far side of the room,
A faintest glint of yellow
Amidst the blackness and the gloom.
No thoughts or feelings left
Except anticipation so pure;
Let the music play—
Whist they stand now,
Dance, they shall, soon.

His touch on her, a delicate caress
Upon her skin;
Cradled, she is gently
Like a fragile figurine.
And as she lay her head across
his chest,
He held her close;
The circle closed by their embrace
Became, to them, the world.

The first of many notes play on,
A song from long ago,
A lullabye of broken promises
And bitter loss;
So soft, and yet it scratched the scabs
Of wounded memories
And flared the pain of hurts
She most not want to reminisce.

He raised her face, to his surprise,
Tears welled from her eyes;
The most sincere and honest gesture
In a place of feigns and lies.
Should he, could he comfort her
—no, she pushed away;
Mumbled an excuse, as if ashamed,
And left in haste.

A mystery of life, up to this day,
He can't digress,
How he found admiration
—attraction? —
In that moment of her weakness.
Is it compassion? Is it pity?
Is it love that's doomed to fail?
'Cause if it is, oh,
The consequences it entails.

It's closing time, last call for
Goodnight kiss before they part;
Tomorrow comes to sell love
To another's waiting arms.
So in a day or two, what's been today
Won't ever matter,
For when the music stops
Then the dance is truly over.