Dancefloor

• Cecilia Brandolini, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2013

The appearance of your pearly white straight teeth
Sends the hot blood,
running through the veins,
in my cheeks...

And the feeling of them,
filling up, to much.
Spilling out, like the thoughts in my head
They come out my lips,
and they don't make sense...

So, take me to the dancefloor...
Dance with me, like you've never even danced before.
Take me to the dancefloor...
Put your hands on my hips,
Touch my nose, with those lips...