This Masquerade

We've dansed the nites away
like passing yesteryear
feeling bliss with every kiss
but never went the distance.
The moments passed and without odds,
just came back repeatedly
hammering into our backs
the words never questioned.
With the taste of blood
left inside my mouth,
I remember the ancient bruises
that befell me before any of this
newfound glory came to existence.
These wounds have been touched
the way our hands have
with tender delicacies.
But with this discovery
comes fanciful hope
and one is always left
dancing in the dark
with the mask still on
and the spotlights around
looking for the one
who left her feeling space-bound
with words for a stranger
echoing through the halls of delight.

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