Dancefloor of Denies

And if we were to meet,

In another place,

In another time,

As two souls.

You would see how,

The age old tale,

Danced across my skin,

Like spilled ink,

Waltzing on a quilt,

Like experience,

Mazing my mind into a labyrinth.

And you would wonder,

How did the parchment,

Leave us empty.

When all we were,

Was suppose to meet as one,

On the dance floor of our denies.

Written by: Soshinie Singh

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