Slowly dancing down the steeply inclined staircase
Mending broken bones with happy thoughts and
Careless nights and too many insufficient lights
Making up lost time with tension high and
Premarital blissful sinful rupturing like cool nights
Of fourth of July celebrations you never
Quite let go hands with and always remember
The feel of that tingling anticipation.
Or was it just a pixie that held hands
With the moon and danced a strange song
Around your head as you woke from the dream.
To lazy to reach, but to awake to not notice
How many little spaces there were amongst
The glowing daylight.

…And listen; I think she’s calling.