By Mark A. Leon

We danced until the evening turned black
Deep in the distance of your eyes, I can see my home

All these strange places, now so familiar
Under the moonlight, we will walk
By the beach lay; ocean tickling our toes

Oh, what a magical tale woven in this confusing ball of yarn called life
Memories of old about a time so young buried in a time capsule
Before you, I found salvation hidden deep in the dirt
Holding on
Just, holding on

Now the shovel is laid to rest
The future is flying above the clouds with you
It may be a dream we are leading with the wind in our hair, the freedom of space and time lifting us
Magic dust sprinkled across your chin
You are the angel in the Sistine Chapel with no roof to hold you back
The princess who burned the crown to live in the wild
Released of the bondage of leather, caressed by the softness of lace

Into the light, we will fly
Two snowflakes meeting on gravity’s flight
To the ground, we slip
Suspended for a moment; time stops
Eyes locked
Existence eternal
Set in motion
Slowly into a feather bed of your bosom

We danced until the evening turned to black
Is it time to leave?
It has only just begun