Wisteria skies are on fire with the pretty pink and purple petals against the backdrop of red and orange sky-flames. Time shifts and rolling white foamy clouds fill a cold sky as hail and snow fall in disorderly ways. The warm liquid pours down my throat, leaving a burning sensation when all outside is freezing. My hand is held and I am wrapped in strong and safe arms. I just had the realization that the skies mirrored what I once called love.
Be so goddamn unattainable that they think you live on the moon. Better still, be the moon that is too large for their lassos and too far from their reach.
Close each open space that you left open and conceal that which was exposed at one time or another. May the only parts that remain permeable be small and far between. Certainly try to remember where all the places that closed have been.
He has the type of smile that makes you want to reflect his joy back onto him. A bit rough around the edges, but such sweetness emanates from his tender actions and it makes you want to thaw.
Without even knowing what she’s made for, that stranger caught her essence in the air like the scent of mango flowers often confused for jasmine flowers in spring evenings.
You will always know what’s true and what’s transient. Your heart will tell you. So choose the memories you make wisely lest you’d like to indulge sadness.
There grew parts of us that no longer fit like they used to. Every other word a torrential downpour crushing, inundating the ground beneath our feet. Between our bodies opened a gash due to the pouring rain softening our foundation until we slowly drifted away. The rains grew heavier as our hands outstretched and we gave in under the weight. I guess… Our passion, once a flame, has now been doused away.