the girl in the mirror stands high on tip-toe
she arches her back as she’s tying the bow
at the back of the dress, then starts doing a twirl
turning this way and that, the skirts billow and swirl
such a beautiful dress, it belonged to her mother
so carefully kept and loved as no other
the girl closes her eyes and imagines the dance
in the arms of a lover, the start of romance
moving daintily now as she hums out the tune
she goes twirling and swirling around the bedroom
nobody to watch yet she waltzes with grace
and just for a moment she’s there in her place
