inside my head
I call out to
the other inside
her head
I sense
her there
without words
as colors do
we blend to
new meaning
in a way only
felt, sensed
we are as children
at frolic on sand
laughing in waves
that roll to shore
hand in hand we glide
on our heels downhill
kicking up pebbles
and dust in our braking
around curves and
squared corners
till full bore
in open field
I scream out to
the other outside
never let go
hold tight
Chagall 2020
Photo by Martin Lopez on Pexels.com
Wonderful words. 🙂
Thank you, Celestine. Very much obliged. —CC