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written by: Ipsita Banerjee



A tempo de minuetto plays
I feel your hand
on the small of my back
as you box-stepped
my two left feet
into the semblance
of a dance.

I dance like that now
living life in boxes
your arms do not hold me
no one covers that mis-step
with a careless frown
a wink, a smile,
or a shrug.

Lead me again into a waltz
I will pick up my feet and dance
I will remember
the steps where I faltered
just let me rest my face
upon your shoulder
inhale the fragrance of you.


My father tried to teach me to dance. Today, while listening to Handel's 'Watermusic', these words just flowed from my heart. He died 24 years ago. Not a day passes that I do not miss him.

Ipsita Banerjee

Ipsita Banerjee

mother, lawyer, dreamer, intrepid traveler, poet, blogger, writer....jack of many trades....inter alia.
Ipsita Banerjee

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