From starting gun to finish line, Electric nerves before you dive,

You are the minute hand on the clock,

You are the doubt, the second thoughts - Breathe.

You are the perfect parabola of each envisioned leap,

The inter-linking rings

The ligaments, elastic lungs Believe -

Believe in the red-haired girl

With gold on her mind

One kiss chase and kicking leaves, Now a flame breathing to ignite another, become - become

Full of chance as the national lottery,

Become the one who reaches

Deep inside for sky, Fights gravity like paper planes

And breathes.