I remember when my lungs were virgins to the night. When fire was merely an exotic dancer, hiding behind curtains off stage. My lips in awe, from leaves leaving branches, like the angel's nine day decent during the fall. I fell to highlights and vibrant colors of moonlight, kissing through the trees down to my eyes. Lying silence, kissing curves of my teeth. I can still taste the earth in my fingers. Teaching me the definition, of flight. 
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- MidnightCousin, juneocallagh, Blackjackuar, DeadPoet, meohmy, JodieT and PenSword72 like this
