Bubbles and Glint

Gliding on shoes made of bubbles and glint,

Her chin slightly raised, her eyes like blue flint,

She smiled through dimples and reached out her hand,

He took it and melted like glass into sand.

“That’s not a bathroom” he said with delight.

She giggled and waltzed back out to the night.

Pretending he’s stranded deep in the city,

He winked a sly ask and she called them a taxi.

The place was quite cozy, the kitchen a mess.

They chatted a verse and retired for rest.

In the morning he kissed her in dreams lightly played,

They walked for a while and parted their ways.

The story continued, he asked once again,

To see her apartment upstairs and within.

The dream turned to skin, as he lightly engaged,

Intertwined til the morning, they wrote a new page.