the waltz.

The moment you’re finally swept up in his arms:

Your insecurities fly out of your mind,

Giggles erupt from your mouth,

Hair finds itself splayed across your face.

You focus on his smile and the rhythmic strides of his feet.

You try to find yourself in his movements but your stubborn spirit dominates the dance.

He pulls you tighter, more secure in his grasp.

As he pulls you through the steps he says,

“Let me lead.”

You melt into his embrace and let yourself revel in the waltz.

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This poem was written for no particular person but came from my freshman year of college. Some of my friends enjoyed ballrom/swing dancing and invited me to join. I was dancing with a friend of mine and this moment happened. Later that day, I was reflecting on this moment and wanted to write about it.

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