Deep waters swirl;
Swish, like a ballgown.
The whirlpool twirls
Like the hem of a dress.
The underlying currents
Of passion as she dances,
The long, golden strands
Of her hair in a mess.
The curving wave
Of her arm as she gestures,
A buildup, a crash,
She jumps to the left.
Still, so still,
A sharp interruption,
Sky dark, like the storm
Of her happiness bereft.
