A Chance of A Dance By the Lake

S U MM E R N I G H TS
have a certain rhythm to them,
like flapping wings.
Bonfires inspire,
musing soft things
to pull on strings.
Sing
a love song to ME
under the SPOTLIGHT
of the MOONLIGHT.
I might...
despite my spite for late romance.
You could... 
change the fact that I don't like to dance.
M U S I C
is not played by chance.
We both have noted circumstance
under the stars.
Our feet are dipped in silent, shallow waters;
hearts E C H O E D out to mars.

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