Hungry for love

I want to reach into a picnic basket and pull out the northern lights, so together we can feast on magic, stardust, rainwater and spiced potatoes and fluffy rice. And then we'll lick the baby pink and periwinkle blue swirls of the sky for dessert. Feed me sweet mangoes and sugared miracles, let me lick your fingers so we can both shiver, and then lie down with me on a blanket made of the feelings you get when your soul meets its other half — you know those feelings; Goosebumps, when someone whispers in your ear, a slow caress, that tingly shudder from licking lime, eyelashes fluttering against your skin, smiling against your will.

Entwine your fingers with mine — your kisses as heady as wine, I’ll bite my lips and we’ll both close our eyes and see fireworks. We’ll hear wishes and dreams and buzzing bees. We’ll stick out our tongues and taste the scorching sun and then roasted lemony almonds on each other’s skin.

Oh, falling is always fun.