My feet were dangling, submerged in a mirror. Every star in heaven peaked out from behind the black roof sky and sprinkled the night with celestial confetti. A celebration of beauty in its purest form. And you. As I pointed out the starry butterfly and my arm brushed against yours, and the confetti rained down and shattered the mirror. And I never wanted to hold anything as much as I wanted to hold your hand at that moment. The butterfly flew down and rested in your eyes. They danced on the mirror.

And I was dangling, dangling.