Timing Directed By Fate.

Dances drag onward.
man's hope worth.
all the effort.

Distance and responsibility,
like,
demeanor and rhythm.

Conspire,
to keep us more,
than arm's length.

Lest,
we'd have,
more than already.

Compromised,
every guideline,
of fear, or restraint.

Tested,
every tangle within,
the taboo tango.

Caring,
not for,
what others expect.

Tradition.

All be denied,
as we dug,
past all disguise.

Courtesy,
tries,
to impose.

Finally,
Knowing for sure,
If we fit.

In,
the way that,
matters the least.

But alas

Tempo and tune,
still,
aren't ours to dictate.

So we wait.

Timing,
seems to want,
us to fail.

Before,
we've even gone,
on one date.

As
electronic,
waltzes are great.

Though,
they only tempt,
us.

To,
be more than,
we are when,

Minds have gone,
beyond bodies in,
the long time,

That we've danced,
the length of.

Directed.

Not by us,
but by fate.

~

Flawed gems.

Every piece no matter how great or small,
has some flaw that makes it truer to self.

The jeweler can't help but see what's wrong with thee,
but the buyer doesn't care.

Will take it there to admire and share,
no matter who would stare.

For even with any cracks and chips, even
if for only one alone, it's still a work of art.

It's hard to account for taste,
when it's a matter of the heart.