It's a wide and vast valley, carpeted with velvet grass
and flowers I can't name and insects you can't see.
Framed by the coastline and a mosaic sky of glass,
and the jutting cliffs- lookout perches for trees.
On a cliff overlooking the valley, I swing back and forth
from a sturdy tree branch, and every swing summit
tips me over the lip of the cliff towards the north
and every time, I feel my heart plummet.
so much so that the valley itself
feeds me the same adrenaline as the swing;
the memory of the risk compels
my veins to turn to tangled string...
Her laugh is from centuries past and future
and I am forever transported
over the cliff when I hear it. To be near her
is to be tempted.
And now I want nothing more
than to let go of the swing
and let myself fall,
like a true princess of kings,
onto the soft grassy floor:
to meet you, prince of queens,
in your mossy time travel machine.
