A Waltz

For you I would be the perfect girl; a whispery-slender willow, a pale-clay statue dressed in the finest silk, the softest velvet.  For just a waltz in your arms.  For just a moment of feeling your body heat I would sacrifice my own.  For your breath down my neck I would give up breath altogether.  You lead and I follow.  You lead in the dance and I follow you.  I pretend that the flickering candles above are the stars and that we dance through the nothingness just we two.  You lead in the dance; for you it is a dance and you want to do it well.  For me you are the centre of the dance; for me it is all about you.  I have given up everything for this moment.  You lead and I follow.  I am the perfect girl for you.  I have made these waltzing shoes with my own hands; I myself have chosen this silk and this velvet to please you; I myself has made this gown just for this moment.  I am waiting for you to look down upon my face and see the girl of your heart.  I am waiting for you to look down and notice me.  My feet stumble and I almost fall but you hold me up, you lead on and I follow.

My heart beats to the music, to the sound of feet to cold marble.  Your arm around my waist as eternity stretches on.  Your hand against my own pressing my skin against my bones.  I look up at your face and you are looking straight forward.  I breathe your scent, I feel your breath to the top of my head and I tell myself that you care until the music stops and you lead me back to my chair, choosing another girl to dance with.

For just a waltz in your arms I have been the perfect girl, but you do not want that; you want a perfect dancer.

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