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"Clasped Hands"

Around my hand is clasped another's

And together...they dance...

I follow, it leads

The steps, scrolled smoothly against

The blank, empty floor ironically, are

Independent from any melodic changes

Or from the unpredictable rhythms of the music.

I am in love with the music

I am consumed with its intoxicating and

Complicated nature and long to be close

enough to taste it, but it will

forever remain untouched and pure...

Even after I am left alone and can

No longer feel the warmth

Which once pressed against my skin.