Dance Love

She loved to dance like the wild flowers blowing in the field, free and without reservations or fear.
Let her cover the cracks and crevices with green ivy instead of tears.
Bloom bloom little buttercup, spill like the fragrance bottle on the antique dresser, soaking into the fine oak, be a reminder to her when she sits at its mirror to try to make old and tired beautiful and new again.
Lace thigh highs, black dancing shoes with the golden buckle. Pin up curls that will be unbridled like her laughter by the nights end.
Silk bra straps getting pushed back on her shoulders with every twirl and dip.
Dance, then keep her memory under lock and key and remind her when she is intimidated by her shoes one day.
Written by BrookeAlynn
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