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You were a silly comic figure who would wink from the page, while I sat there minding my own business, sipping my coffee, reading my paper. Your eyes told old stories, zero to sixty and you gave it more gas. “Take my hand,” you insisted. I looked away, but fell inside.

The music swelled, the notes blurring my senses. I was no longer a flesh and blood girl, I didn’t bleed red, but dissolved effortlessly into you, into your flat hues, crazy lines, we circled the earth but never quite caught the sun. Our hands melded together, you fueled me, yet dragged me, my hand never left your grasp. I was in your world as it spun and shook. But then I slipped, lost all focus, dared to color outside the lines.

It was my turn to lead and I told you my dreams, guided the way. Now it was you who cursed the drums, begged for air; it was you who clung to hold on, to my human hands, with your ghostly grasp. Banging your head against the walls, you writhed in pain, you flickered and died.

And it wasn’t till then, in that a-ha moment, you learned to let go and come alive. You entered my world, fragile and beautiful. I peered into your eyes and found the light, the colors; they flashed in an infinite sky! And I knew you were real when you touched my skin, and we both stopped running, we both stood still.

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Inspired from  “Take on Me” by a-ha  on YouTube

Published by Tricia Sankey

Plays with words in her free time.

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