I met a boy, a man, a friend;
I knew his face but not his name.
I recognized his eyes;
the man behind the clown.

The clown gave me a heart balloon.
The man gave me his name.
He gave me his love.
His life.
His happy.

I gave him my heart, my soul, my days.

He didn’t guarantee the balloon wouldn’t pop
or that it wouldn’t deflate.
But it didn’t.

Our eyes made promises,
our touch fulfilled them.
It was poetic, romantic, a dream.

We flew, cushioned on its magical air.
We soared through trees and bounced on clouds.
We found rainbows, we saw sunsets.
On the grass, the sand, the rocks –
in the skies and deep underground.
We created a fantasy, a fairytale,
an Us.
A We.

Our heart started beating.
Love.
All from one heart balloon.