After so many years in the air, I still can't shake the electrifying tremor of the first ascent. It's intoxicating, how the rigging skims across my skin, the world shrinking down below, me, a diamond soaring, glittering high above the mundane. Being an aerial dancer is the epitome of freedom; every note from the orchestra, every gasp from the audience below, sends my soul spiraling towards the stars. Most cannot fathom the thrill that courses through my veins as I paint the air with powerful strokes of movement. It's my art, my song, my love smoothed onto a canvas that spans the cosmos. Life below is but echos of the dance —the making love to the sky— in my daily encounters. Today, as I sat for coffee at that old corner cafe, I noticed a woman. Not just any woman, but one that swayed with a rhythm that resonated with a dancer's soul. She moved like water, fluid and yet, completely unpredictable. Much like the time I just updated the aerial routine, it felt like rediscovering an art form I thought I knew. As I approached her, I couldn't help but remember the first time I twirled in the air, hand suspended on the silks, my heart on my tongue. It was the same rush, the same kind of vertigo. All this time I've been flying solo; I didn't realize how much I yearned for company until she turned, and those eyes met mine. It was like a sudden leap, the pivotal moment of plunging from the skies, the rush of air and the intense feeling of being utterly alive. 🧥 The intimacy of the stage, under the spotlight, is a world of hues and blushes, an ethereal dance of two bodies. I yearned to share this with her, the solace of being suspended in an embrace, basking in the luxury of a shared heartbeat, whisper-soft breaths brushing cheeks, the taste of passion lingering on parted lips. It was an emotional dance that unfurled in the silence of my heart, the crescendo of a melody only we could hear. 🍆 I have danced through my life, soared through symphonies, washed over waves of applause, sweat making my muscles gleam under spotlights. But here, in the enigmatic silence between our words, I danced anew. I danced to the rhythm of her laughter, her whispers, our shared dreams. It was a dance of two souls as old as the cosmos, a testament of time; it was the dance of love. 💃 An aerial dancer knows freedom like the back of his hand. But even I didn't realize how liberating it would be to share this sky, to share this dance of life and love. The intimacy of the dance, the layers of emotions, the whispers of self-expression, everything was all the more poignant, all the more beautiful. 🪣 🪫