Grace

Poem By Heather Biscoe

She moves around
the dark room
his eyes watches
her every move
in a red flowing dress
hair as black as night
spins round and round
following the beat
wants to take her hand
touch her lips
feel her move
round and round
eyes filled with fire
he only knows
how she makes him feel
as the the light
hits her skin
they move as one
on the floor
beautiful and graceful

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Sounds like a matched pair


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