Living Out a Memory of a Love That Died

“I’m all messed up, I’m so outta line”
—Robyn, ‘Dancing On My Own’

You are at the party
Without them, finally—and you notice

That people say they like you, even
Love you, without turning away

To say otherwise, as you
                                        Dance
                                                Freely
Momentarily; before

        They drift into your mind again your mind
        Becoming theirs again as you see live
        Through them again as their voice
        Takes your attention again as your vigilant
        Years with them feel wasted
        Again        you        stop        moving

Again. Living through
        Their mind

Floats by quicker
        This

Time; as the love
You allow in

Gets stronger:                                        You dance again.