| 1 entry | | |  | | | | The Dance | wrote | | I can see your soul when I smile at you with tenderness,
In timid admiration of hidden perfection I yearn to discover.
The room becomes a perfect canvas painted with your beauty,
With nothing but the kindness of your eyes swept across it.
Ive met you a million times before in an echo of a dream,
Where I walk into the crowded room full of cold strangers.
You take my hand and kiss me the first time, a hundred times.
Here you tell me that Ive never been without your given heart. | | | | | 1 entry | | |
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