Cling. Murmur. Taken.

It's a murmur that I heard once -
   in the late evening, where the sun kisses the earth

It was crowded.

I cannot remember much more than
   a green striped t-shirt

   clinging to a warm body with sweat.

It was humid.

The ground was pulsing, like we were on another planet

   where gravity moved differently

   and people could dance so fast they were flying.

I almost tasted the sky.

I cannot recall the face

   freckled, maybe

   or just burned from a lot of flying

   up high, where the sun burns brilliantly

   up high so that it soaked into his skin

      his soul.

He lit up the world.

"I am quite taken with the way you dance,"

His voice reminded me of a lullaby.

"Your feet almost never touch the ground.

   would you like me to teach you how to fly?"

"Yes."

Explained here.