Grains of dust in faded light,
Flotsam tide-pools, washed out night,
Samphire eyes blink through the deep,
Black velvet on jukeboxes dream in sleep.
Against the murk and seabed plants,
A flash of scarlet, a call to dance.
The sound of metal; the bands to their seats,
The conductor wakes up as the sea retreats.
Neon claps as phosphor glows,
Filament shouts as the rhythm grows.
"This dance" they cry " these games" they say,
"I heard it once" but turn away.
The faces we saw the hearts we took,
We keep them closed in long-shelved books,
The life we lived, the stones we laid,
Are empty houses left to fade.
"This music is too loud...These memories, too bright",
The beat lives on the more you fight,
The steps you make, these steps they fear,
Some sparks live on, some lives stay here.
