It’s midnight,
And my hands are clasped,
And maybe I’m praying or wishing or reaching,
But whatever it is,
It’s magic,
Romantic,
And beautiful.
My hands are cradling my heart,
Or maybe it’s yours,
Like it is in my dreams,
Like maybe I’m yours,
Because it’s not an impossibility,
Is it?
My heart is full of poetry,
And music,
And art,
And dancing,
And that’s what my hands are doing;
Dancing,
And I watch them move,
Thinking,
What if this was ours?
Our moment,
Our dance,
Our gently touching hands,
Our magic,
Not just mine,
Like a fairytale.
