Standing on high cliffs, I slip and glide
from the body I was attached.
Swaying with the sky that tumbles into night,
I perch on the prickled grass,
Picked up and loved by a child,
Who dances with me at her fingertips.

The wind curls into her kicks and jumps.
A pebble wedged into Mary Janes,
Never stopping leaps and stretched arms.
I am pursed between her fingers,
Pushing me up to the clouds and down to the grass.

With the turn of her heel, her grip loosens.
The wind rips her away from me.
My love to be human,
Her love to fly,
Fell from the gust,
That took us to the sky.