It was a retro roller rink,
Skating around boards that gave you splinters,
Trying each arcade game, wasting quarters,
And how many times you could bribe the DJ to
Play your favorite song.
He was sitting alone in the corner of the side cafe,
At the booth where the floor had a giant crack,
Where his foot was nervously tapping,
Sunshine was streaming in on his curly red hair,
As he waited in suspense for
Her
To walk through the door, all confidence and smiles,
Like she was the lead in a musical.
She had that magical way of walking and skating,
Almost like every move was a
Choreographed mix of chaos and art.
The hours passed, the rink cleared out,
The sun went down over his booth,
And he continued to tap his foot on the
Crack in the floor.
But when she came sweeping in that door at
11:36 pm brighter than the disco ball,
His heart swelled like the bass on a road trip,
And as the two of them sweat their hearts out
On the rink until the wee hours of the morning,
That maze of splinters and heartbreaks,
He found that he had never been as happy as he was with
Her.