A Poet’s Story #3

Continued from yesterday’s A Poet’s Story #2

In that moment of quick, furious ride
We traveled places unknown to men
Where the moon rocked our floors
And the sun shied off into the night
Places of crystal, with shiny drops of air
Though we gasped and hopelessly grasped
We wished the drowning would never end

Another world felt as if the lilies
All sweet and strong formed a carpet
The soft feel lit up through our bare feet
And the tango felt like a million brushes
One rough and a million more smoother
Round and round we went, a world to another
And every time we hoped we’d go one farther
Yey, yes. A split of a moment,
Longing for a moment next.
Fast and slow, burning our anger away
It was almost coming to an end.

To be continued…