Her

Tripping over my own feet.

I stumble in to what once was every now and then.

With a slow merry go round pace I walk and spin.

Dancing through the elements.

I had a partner.

She caught the Saturday Night Fever.

Poor girl.

Fingers elongated like the wings of a bird. They slowly would glide along her palms to extend to her tips. Our hands closing like a tomb.

We step cautiously like doing so onto a busy New York street. All that noise and commotion. Using our instincts to guide us along.

She is all i see.

She is all i hear.