Hang-Gliding

“It’s easy,” was my first instruction.

Put both hands here
and hang on tight.
Let go.

I guess all I managed
was to know where to put my hands
and learn how to grab on tight.

It was a shaky makeshift flight.
The wind was an adversary.
The sun burnt me. My breath
shorn short by fear.

Carefully, I shifted my gaze from my sweaty palms
to you, flying beside me.
I was awed. You were perfect against the sky.

My arms longed to break.
I felt my strength give way.
Looking up at you made me tired.

I left your horizon and felt
my feet touch earth.
Yes, sir, I’m the Queen of Descent.