Of Love and Folklore

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When I look at my love, he looks at the boy in front of him, but we only see each other's backs. Never the face. Because we're not all dancing together. We're in pairs. And in this dance, my love doesn't exist. I drag him into it, but only his back. And it was his back that I fell in love with. His broad back, dressed in the most beautiful costume in the world, which is all the costumes he wore.