We wildly ran so deep within the cherry woods
that none of us knew when we left the world behind.
You worried, but you danced; The wind made branching flutes
play colored tones by whistling through your punctured mind.

Your skin throws fevered sparkles to the moonlit haze
and every bone bends ‘round in twisted crinkling cracks
to match the wicked smile imprinted on my face.
We worry, but we dance so meadows taste our tracks.

I worry now our mortal soles won’t touch the ground
and, as the grin I wear no longer seems my own,
I hear us cackle freely, twirling all around
while on the ground your shadow watches us alone.

Yet where I've seen mine last, it seems I can’t recall.
As heaven’s mourning light turns sky-bound skin to grey,
my fingers fade and lose your weight. I see you fall,
where dawn becomes the dusk that takes your dance away.