Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT! All for fun, no profit involved.
A/N: I have no idea where this came from. I blame Celtic music. Especially The High Kings. So ADDICTIVE.
The Dance
Quick feet tap, across the stones,
beneath the stained glass light,
ruby, the color of her lips,
emerald, like her forest,
blue as bright as his eyes.
Bow, Curtsey.
He winks, she laughs.
One two three, twirl, turn.
Catch her.
She always makes that difficult.
He loves her for it.
Grins flash
a fair slender hand meets its match,
rough and worn and strong wraps around gentle, resilient kindness.
Spin, under the arms that hold her at night.
Black hair, twists, spin again,
White dress flares out.
Bobbing, switch places.
Exchange that look.
Pull her close. Hearts
beat.
Mischief caught in her eyes.
Green eyes, loved eyes,
above
sweet spiced lips.