Take me back to London, please.

We’re holding hands
and walking through Russell Square.
When the musician on the corner
starts to play an old standard,
you pull me along beside you and into your arms.

You take me away
to a world of antique dresses
and sparkling, greyscale innocence.

My unsure legs find themselves tangled
between yours and your kisses muffle my laughter
as the crowd cheers us on in this waltz.

The street corner melts into your apartment
and we find that we’ve created this,
music and joy and infinite possibilities.

[Written December 26th, 2016]

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