Lost in moments yet to come
you look into her eyes and you can
sense her, feel her, hold her now
in your imagination.
Looking at her you know she is then, you are now
and you cannot possibly know the world she walks in
Fickle dream the future, yet she grasps it firmly
in her gaze.
That is what you say,
looking at her.
You see
and feel with a sound of happy voices and music you
cannot understand.
How can something like that
make you so excited when it tantalizes, just out of reach.
Joyful mirth she teases you with, that sly smile, the ways she melts
you, turns you to her will, just the ways she raises her arms and says
Dance with me!
Hold me.
And you do
Hold her from harm, from the coldness in the world which hasn’t discovered
her just yet, hasn’t found out about her power when she turns to look at it
and the beauty she’ll find or create in it…
You see this in her eyes and find yourself
dizzy from how she makes you feel.
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