Remembering the freedom
when your arms were easily
guided by the undercurrent
of my flight.
Ah, the softness of your voice
blended with the wind,
was the music of my soul
under my spread wings.
And the wind lifted us high,
where we viewed the sun
sprinkling the sea with crystals,
illuminating the route to Morro Castle.
Your beautiful hands held
the dandelion as we danced
on the edge of the wind,
and we both watched in wonder.
You held me close
and lightly brushed my hair aside,
and you gently whispered,
“Are we falling or flying”?
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