Whatever were you thinking when you asked me to dance given a chance to do over I’d have said no thank you, moved on with my life. Sure I may have looked lonely, heart-broken, but survival is my MO you might say, I was wrong, heard words spoken attempted to change my mind - in retrospect distracted me for a time meaning I was blind to your ploy lured me into a web sticky with venom mostly invisible, left me reeling blind Listened to your professed feelings dished out to deter from a past not to be forgotten, whatever words you spoke then, squirrels on the lawn begging for food, eyes strayed there as I ventured into traffic, not paying any mind I stayed in the road cars swerving around; oblivious me looked not ahead but sideways, a dense wood, beckoned into hidden dangers, no warning observed the pathway obscured by song nothing felt wrong at the time. Later woke to find myself again, saw past the road, squirrels sated, faded west where you belong. Whatever words spoken best forgotten, in lieu of what is real Julie A. Dickson