We ran across the sand, leaving clothes in our wake. Hand in hand we knew no fear, felt no hesitation. Consequence was a thing of sunlit hours, and for now all we had was the moon. Dark hair framed the face I trusted implicitly and all I knew were his lips. He took from me the only thing I had left to give.
Now, I can't bear to relive my own idiocy.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC