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January 20, 2005
Dance
It's cold on the roof,
The night extends quiet,
He walks to the mannequin,
Asking her to dance,
She turns her head up,
In an angle sudden
He pulls her up,
She struggles,
Putting one hand
Around her waist,
Pulling her other
Hand up
He lifts her
Close, and dance,
A bow breaks in distance,
As the sky tilts a bit
Inside his head
Posted by Idinraha at January 20, 2005 04:20 PM