you waltzed in [in a split second]
and waltzed right back on out of my life [or, emotions?]
except, maybe no...
you didn't waltz on out,
it was more of a ripping action, like sprinting at the end of a race and tearing
right through that ribbon as if it wasn't there at all.
so, you waltzed in and sprinted right out.
ok, well maybe you didn't waltz...
waltzing is so out of date these days.
i suppose it would suffice to say you danced,
quickly.
hardcore dancing even, because you think you're so tough and elite.
you danced in... and sprinted out... but i'm still here,
feeling just a bit trampled.
it's kind of difficult to cope
with all those elaborate foot movements:
the kicking and stomping and running, not to mention those flailing arms
in every which way.
i was always relatively musically inclined.
hey, i can hold a beat pretty damn well.
however, my body doesn't like to move
in any synchronized fashion... i just try and motion with the beat.
but the beat was syncopated
...a confusing rhythm as soon as you danced on in.
somehow, i couldn't keep up.
or, you were andante
and i was allegro.
either way, you danced in... and sprinted out...
and i'm still here, off beat.

 

copyright 2002 Lyndsey Gaydos