Posted in Women Who Think to Much

Dance With Me Woman

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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Dance With Me Woman

He yanks the crippled woman

Out onto the slick dance floor.

As he stumbles over her heart, he asks,

“Don’t you like to dance anymore?”

Her brown eyes vacant, not unlike a corpse

She silently gazes up at his handsome face.

Her words are lodged in her throat

Obstructed by injuries that time can’t erase.

There’s no crazy glue that’d bind her

Or mend her tattered faith

She’s just a fragment of herself

So, they waltz, standing in place.

by Jeanne Marie

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