a patchwork quilt of maybes and almosts ✓

dance (stories from the palais)

this is the first in a cluster of poems that i like to call stories from the palais. they're basically set around a girl who lives in versailles who's married to the prince/king (a girl i made up). i hope you like this poem! please read, comment, share, vote :) thank you for reading, i love you all

********************************

the music

wafts

towards you

through the air

tangible

like the smell of

cakes

rising in the oven

when you sneak

down to the kitchens

at night

to catch a quick

meal

before you meet him

he's there

he always is

standing

across the room

a fine suit

a fine face

like air carries you

you drift

towards him

towards the music

white hands

on the piano

pressing

note

after note

after note

in some semblance

of a melody

of a song

there is so much

dancing

but your eyes are

fixed

and when he meets

your gaze

the world stops

or perhaps it is just

the music

as hands

lift

from the keys

you dance with him

fast

upbeat

even though whatever

frantic

thing that you have

is not

happy at all

the music slows

as if drawing you

closer together

as if you could

ever be

not here

in front of everybody

faces near

breath blows

across your cheeks

you almost

close

your

eyes

but then you see

him

the other him

the one that you

are supposed to

love

and you draw away

across the floor

as the upbeat music

plays

and the one that

matters

is standing there

dazed

lost

on the

dance floor