something about that jazz

as we danced every step was discovery, the creaking patio hardwood rhythmic and soulful. the light was wet, it’d just rained. under the melting evening sky time softened, dripped. we glistened, jewels in the night. something about that jazz, we moved though we can’t dance, we were the piano keys, the air frolicking around the strings, the breath of every hum. the music was red, freedom pulsed. I don’t know where we were or when it was, I remember being pulled from this world by hands soft like the jazz. we danced. as the warm sax blew; we basked the fuzz, the feeling, the sound, the tears on our eyelids shivering. our shadows stretched into the earth, laying slender on the sand, in insignificance we revel. something about that jazz, we slow danced, stepping on each other’s toes - but it didn’t matter. the sun was going down, we tripped onto the ground. the hardwood moaned, we laughed. the music slowed, you kicked off your red shoes the ones you got to wear because it was finally summer. and i lay there, still in your arms for the very last time, how was i to know that it would be the final. but it was