Dance With the Memory

. Kitchen light still burning low. Paper folded soft and slow.

Your handwriting says "I had to go," but the bassline hums,

nowhere else to show. Street lights blur through window glass. Past and future

start to pass. I tie my scarf, adjust my hair. The

night is waiting. I'll meet you there. Dance with the memory in your

hands. Step like tomorrow understands. Loneliness spins out on the polished

floor. But the rhythm calls, you can't ignore. Mirror walls reflect

a crowd. Laughter rising bold and loud. Every stranger wears your eyes.