Slow dancing in the dark like we have all the time in the world,
like the world isn't a war zone and a massive grave.
The ghosts in this house peek through the holes in the ceiling,
blushing and turning away as we kiss.
I taste Christmas in your mouth and slowly feel myself flying through space
(was that the yellow balloon i lost when I was eight?)
Your laughter in my mouth brings me back to earth
and I apologize for gripping your hand so tightly.
(I can't let you float away and never return like my balloon did)