Last Dance, First Kiss
Remember the last time we danced? The placement of our hands, my body wrapped itself up inside your charm.
Even though there was no music playing, our quickened breaths and racing heartbeats — composed themselves into a symphony.
In a surreal twist — I became your muse that morning, and for the first time — you became the Poet. With every spin, we tore up our paper dance floor. I didn’t know, you were writing murder on that dance floor with our every misstep.
You killed me softly, just like a good love Poet always does. Bathing in sunlight — like dirty, pretty things, we danced ourselves into a loveless poem. When it was all over, I felt the shift in the air like a subtle cool breeze. I became the Poet once more, and I let out a sigh — that sounded a little something like relief.
When I fall in love, our first kiss will taste like paradise. There, I spilled it into existence.
In my head, there is adventure afoot. I am filled with a wanderlust like never before, this castaway is ready to wash up — on her own shore.
Take me to my private beach, where the Sea salt will warm and heal.
I want me just the way I am right now, all of me. Still, the renaissance is a happening like every living — breathing thing. This constant metamorphosis is not painless, yet it’s so damn beautiful.
I’ll resolve to cry out yesterday somehow — so I can breathe in today.
Aliveness, it’s always at the edge of glory and disaster.
Under the light of the open sky, I will meet with trouble once more. We’ll agree to a fair fight, maybe shake hands on it with fingers crossed.
Nonetheless, the sweetest taste of paradise — will linger on my lips. Just a touch of love in all the right spaces, will synchronise every sigh into a sound — a little something like relief.
