Tufts of clouds marched like buffalo, suspended in air.
I danced across sky as though wings sat below my feet.
Inching toward that Promised Land but nowhere near it.
Nearer and nearer to her.

I stared into blue, pockmarked by white.
In awe of the reservoirs so light that they fly.
There is water held in the sky.

As I edged forward I smiled,
Time was drawing nigh,
Smiles and I could finally be friends again.
My wait for my love was coming to an end.

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