Winter Dance

[milo]

It’s the sound of your silence
in the cold of the night, frightening stare
and the break of a smile, glistening
behind your eyes and trickling down your nose
make plans, break hands, let envelopes close.

Waterfalls of bygones drown the air around us
but the dust on my lips aches to be made warm
in the strength of your arms, don’t let go.

The dizzy dance ensues and the music spins louder
and somehow my feet know step 1, 2 and 3
can’t you see that I’m still shaky with fever?
and all of those who stepped on your frail toes
left you wet and broken and all mine, all mine.
You’re still the best dancer in this part of town
but the thing is, I can’t bear your silence this time.

the attention to meter and sound in this one is better but you spend more time treading through over-familiar water:
"sound of silence"
"cold of night"
and you are relying more on abstractions and poetic constructions:
"waterfalls of bygones"

"the dust on my lips aches to be made warm" almost evades the hackneyed "my lips ache to be made warm" but not quite.

Still, plenty of details, plenty of imagery, the writing is still quite strong, nice job.

milo