Lana wrote it better (Parisienne Walkways) (20.8.2020)

It was a strange year, that roller coaster

I learned after 27 years that it takes 11 hours to semi-circle Earth

And for the first time I learned to measure the world

It was smaller than I always thought, and faster

When I came home in 2019

I felt a rush inside me, an impetus

White hair growing on the side of my head

My best friends who never had to ask me how it went

And my birthday soon approaching

like the big rock of ice, bigger than the biggest Ship in 1912

I was Titanic measuring forces with nature and ready to sink

I was feeling older and fresh

So I decided that year I'd do it differently

And I took my first ice skating lesson

I wouldn't paint, draw or write until

Wednesday afternoon late autumn, two cups of coffee, toast with jam

There I was, another city, 15 miles away

My first time on the ice

Grabbin' the bar so hard like it was the only human invention

able to protect me from that vast fake unknown freezed ocean

I was a baby learning my first steps once again

Gravity meant nothing, curiosity leading me

Different ballance, eyes shaking, white cold inside the rink, everywhere

(I then saw you)

Your deadly snow white skin, black straight hair, soft tender hands

birdly gliding through the ice - that was your true home -, a skinny lone battle-bird, a flawless dancer

That jumps and spins creating your own wind, the coarse sound of your blades

hurting the ice like you were the first and only man to skate

Graceful fast coldness, a mystery to me, sparkling royal vest

you were ice and I was steel and wood, Titanic, a trickery

I fell

And fell again

The instructor then came to me and said "you're not using your both legs"

Yes, she was right, it wasn't like walking

It wasn't the well known feeling of the world under me

It was new

A fresh start in your domain, Ice King

at no time did I feel more poet than at that moment

For I realized there was so much I did not know