We dance on kitchen floors,

dinner simmering on the stove.

Your record player spinning with us.

Your laughter fills these halls.

Drowning out the world outside.

Our world is these four walls.

My face is split in a carefree grin.

Eyes crinkled at the corners.

Tears flowing of their own volition.

We dance on kitchen floors,

dinner simmering on the stove.

Your record player spinning with us.

This is our world of deep greens and blues.

Where the only tears are those of joy.

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