And we’ll dance around to music,
kicking our knees up high,
because we’re so happy
and things are so right
and we have finally found it:
perfection.
And as we let this wonderful feeling course through our veins,
slip into our bones
and seep out our pores,
we’ll forget, just for a second,
that perfection is fleeting,
an illusion, brought on by a string of events
that simply all fit together so naturally.
So we’ll leave only the smallest space for reality to settle back in later on,
which only makes this fleeting perfection all the more sweet,
knowing it won’t last forever.
The air will be pregnant with joy and thick with enthusiasm,
as we dance ourselves into oblivion
into a perfect,
temporary mess.
-sandy.
(photo: by Rob. Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia)
