this is the first in a cluster of poems that i like to call stories from the palais. they're basically set around a girl who lives in versailles who's married to the prince/king (a girl i made up). i hope you like this poem! please read, comment, share, vote :) thank you for reading, i love you all
********************************
the music
wafts
towards you
through the air
tangible
like the smell of
cakes
rising in the oven
when you sneak
down to the kitchens
at night
to catch a quick
meal
before you meet him
he's there
he always is
standing
across the room
a fine suit
a fine face
like air carries you
you drift
towards him
towards the music
white hands
on the piano
pressing
note
after note
after note
in some semblance
of a melody
of a song
there is so much
dancing
but your eyes are
fixed
and when he meets
your gaze
the world stops
or perhaps it is just
the music
as hands
lift
from the keys
you dance with him
fast
upbeat
even though whatever
frantic
thing that you have
is not
happy at all
the music slows
as if drawing you
closer together
as if you could
ever be
not here
in front of everybody
faces near
breath blows
across your cheeks
you almost
close
your
eyes
but then you see
him
the other him
the one that you
are supposed to
love
and you draw away
across the floor
as the upbeat music
plays
and the one that
matters
is standing there
dazed
lost
on the
dance floor