Random thought:

I really need to take advantage of that "cherry blossom" trope one of these days...

Scribble: Evaporation.

      Eyes closed. Fingers crossed. A single footstep, followed by another. Legs and arms becoming fluid, swimming in the melody, flowing over the rhythm.
      A single strand of hair flutters over eyelids. Body language in a cursive script. Lights dance across her skin, beading with sweat. Somewhere her fingers come uncrossed, where she flips onto her hands and back again.
      Percussive sounds of palm against palm. Feet no longer bound by gravity's gravitas. Eyes flutter open, only to see forms and hues sharper, brighter than before.
      Floating above the ground, freedom lifting her to the sky.
      "That girl can fly."