Sometime in morrow, we shall go into town, out together.
We shall escape during the late afternoon.
The air shall be crisp, and the sun running to hide yet aglow with orange as it so often showcases itself as evening approaches.
We shall stroll hand-in-hand as a visual sign to punctuate our shared affection.
The lights from the fair will show brightly in the distance - bringing into focus all things for him, his love so close by.
He will stumble in to kiss her.
She will submit and then catch herself at once.
She will endeavor to pull away.
He will breathe deeply and softly, take hold of her and whisper “I️ could lose myself in you.”
“And?” she will remark.
“And if it ended, what then?”
About the Creator
life.evolve.her
Today, I devour easily the words of song and sorrow.
Tomorrow, I purge on its beautifully raw and unabashed strength to cut or to cure.
Words are the altar of hope at which I worship and the articulation of a loneliness I long to exorcise.
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