You had the chance to make it up. Opened the floor to your last dance. Gave the time to move with you against the unruly rythm of a song.
Yet you blew it.
You stepped over the shoe. Doing it more than once. And the pain was endured just to finish the dance. Dirty dancing half past midnight. With the moonlight glowing on the floor. You've wasted yet another chance unworthy to be given. Eventhough we tried to give a good show.
Now you'll only see the studio in daylight. And think of what could've happen if. You maybe had the best instructor; though a solo-performer, tried a double act. Now watch him solely glide through the songs with the wind. Dancing like never giving any fuck.
You should've said goodbye to your last dance. Your salsa has already stopped.
Labels: heart, self, summer