Pink sprinkles turn violet
just on that curve of my ballet
waiting for that valet
to do my job as a pilot.

Tip of my toe pointed
towards the Mother earth,I
jump, my garment floats with me
just to find myself.

I stop there, sit to rest,
plugs beat into the drum,
as i close my eyes,
mind separates the plays.

spirals all around me,
that magical blue pixels
I open to find myself,
held by you.

I look up at the sky,
wishing to fly like no attachment
seems to be my love for pie,
that never find its compliment.

There I sit at the cliff
as my lovable loneliness
arrests me with its handcuff
called,commonly, darkness.