I think I imagined it as a song, while at a music festival a few years ago, when we begun.
Your fingertips are tracing
shivers down my spine,
bless your mind.
People are siting quietly in the sun
drifting in the song that has just begun,
docile and curious of what they’ll find.
The rays keep on reflecting from the sound
bouncing up and down on the ground,
We’re jumping leaps, skipping beats
and making Mary-go-rounds.
The lesser the space – the friendlier the face
in which you accidentally bump:
a smile, a hello, a bow and maybe a pirojuette
because it’s wiser like that.
And we all know that’s a fact,
ready to pledge our oath –
pinky promise and kiss a goat.