Bird poop

Splattered

Everywhere 

“This isn’t ideal”

“It’s real”

“Grab my hand,

Watch for the vents”

“Let me catch my breath”

I look at you, 

brown dress fluttering with the wind

the scarf round your head 

sliding slowly to your neck

Pale pink

I reach to you,

The plastic round our wrists meet

The heat of my hand cools 

with the touch of yours

“After, we’ll do all the tours”

Masked expression 

Your head sways

Eyes away

Our ringed fingers lace

You say,

“Let’s dance”