He asked for a dance- swayed me slow- I smiled at him, his innocence assured, when slowly he twirled me and twirled and twirled, until I was dizzy- out of breath- he turned into a cyclone. I could see the shards of leftovers of my soul, falling apart, my energy blown, I kicked and screamed while the hurricane engulfed me. But what use was it to cry under the sea? I calmed myself, stayed low. Waited for the storm to die on its own.
I inspected the damage- lesser than the last- I could walk; all was not lost. I said to myself, "you're stronger than you believe, you're tougher than you can feel, you've been through this before, not just once, but twice. You know how it goes, it's not any different a third time." I brushed off the dirt and looked around. At least there was a little less crumble to sweep off this time. Tied my hair up, rolled up my sleeves thinking, "I really liked dancing, he ruined it for me."