I dance to my own tune—
just,
just like a mayfly,
born in the river,
brief as a whisper,
but oh, how I dance.

I dance to the stream
of this woven string—
threaded with light,
spun from that first look
you gave me
like I was something new.

You.
You—
I owe you big time.

Let’s dance.
Let’s twist like reeds in moonlight,
while the letters we wrote each other
float downstream,
paper boats carried by wind
and whatever storm sun flares up

Just you and me—
and them,
watching over us:
the stars,
the angels,
pouring ales into their veins,
slurring old songs
about love that outlives skin.

We grow like roots,
we bear fruit,
we rise over branches
while the flowers bloom,
bloom in the skies—
petals spilling over stars
like confessions we forgot to hide.

And if we disappear tomorrow?
Let them say
we danced.