She stood small,
in silence,
in the shadow of
my regard,
observing unobtrusively
the precarious goings on.
Reluctant to engage with
any future disappointments,
but wrapped herself
in darkness,
the sanctum of anonymity.
Her beauty, her truth
to remain unbeheld,
her trust unsullied.
Yet her spirit shone,
bright beacon to my own,
and I was guided
past the rocky shallows
into her tranquil depths,
cool and soporific.
There we found
among psychotropic visions,
perfectly bizarre, surreal.
We frolicked
to our delight
in buoyant
zero gravity flight.
We danced until
we ran out of breath,
and then we danced
no more.

M. Zane McClellan

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