You hold out your hand,

And I take it.

What else can I do?

You drag me to the centre,

Amount the crowd swaying.

Some glance at us

But carry on.

Not caring for the rarity

Which left long ago.

We dance once more

And again I find

My eyes diverged

To another, who walks alone.

I'm sorry.

I can't stand the dance,

Or the publicity,

Or the newpapers

Who point out in laughter

the 'happy couple'.