Grief. Love. Magic. A new road. A new life~

The Many Dances~

I used to dance with my beloved husband…

We danced dreamily, to Clint Black, to Chicago, to Elvis, to whatever tune happened to be playing wherever we were.
Oh, how we danced...his right arm around me, my hand clasped in his.

At the end of the dance, he’d always dip me back in his arms, and then kiss my hand.

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Just me, trying to figure this shit out, after the firestorm of my beloved husband's death~
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