Body language in the palette of the
late afternoon, the Dream King’s canopy.
Disappearing behind the ninth cloud
a grand reflection of the thousands of
diamonds below in waves of nostalgia:
up, up and away to our liberation.
I tug at you, and then I let go.
In the current we surrender to wherever
it may want us to get lost or return
the string that holds us together
we hold on like two doing a tango
your hair flying in the breeze; your clothes
getting undressed by the wind skywrites
the warmth inside my chest imbued in gold.
A ballerina twirling, a dervish whirling.
Step by step we rely on each other, I
give you a hand so you could reach the stars
the blaze of the terra sun the dazzling halo
of our love for this classic dance.
You pulled me into your arms and
the sparrow was let go, the thread
I released as you come…
Come back down now to earth.