Flirting with a Dream

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 07, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 07, 2018



I do not know how to say

good bye to you, my dearest friend.

Have one last waltz with me: We do not have to

tango to the very end.

We have loved and hated

each other, spun together sharp and fast

upon polished floors of oak, beside tall window glass;

swept through musical rhymes and beats

and now, at last,

slow down, take a solemn bow,

and part our ways, each on our feet.


You were my worst enemy, an almost-fatal mistake;

my only lover, the truest friend I have made.

We have side-stepped and twirled through purple Hollywood streets

floating among the jazzy blue notes that hang in twilight air.

We have spun through Amazon,

flown up Giza’s stairs,

pas de basqued through silent cathedral walls,

in chase of the sun-kissed frontier.

One time, you took me to a castle made of diamonds on a snowy mountain by the sea,

and we stood on top of the balcony, silent, tasting the salty breeze,

watching the sun wash the sky with coral pink and blushed red.

You turned around, I waited for your kiss -

but all you did was walk away in the ocean mist.

We dove down Angel Falls,

cutting through the erupting fog.

I slammed into a protruding rock -

bloodied my fist, broke my wrist,

smashed the bone of my left hip -

I cried out in pain, gave your name a call,

but all I heard was my voice, lonely and echoing against the wet canyon walls.

We danced through blackened oil fields

spinning crazily among flames that erupted in the empty skies,

but by then I had already known that you were never meant be mine.

You led me into an auditorium, swinging with music and joy -

but the stage had no spot for me, not even one more;

I took a glass of wine, settled for a seat,

finally realizing this auditorium was not constructed for me.


I used to think that I could stretch my fingertips and touch

the corner of the star, and I would burn:

Burst into flames, consumed by fire and passion,

and emerge as a phoenix, trailing smoky gray and fiery gold.


I used to think that each one of us is a brilliant, pulsating white star,

But we burn alone and shine from afar.


So hold my hand, and waltz with me under this dusty chandelier,

I know that the final measure is near.

Come with me one last time, my dearest dream,

come and have one last dance with me.



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