Your lips drift onto mine, supple as the wings of fairies. As rose petals dance across the night in a corsage of promised love, dropping their fairy dust onto the ash and hickory floor. Our feet bristling across the dancing dust and sending us flitting into the air, floating above gravity's clutch. Gossamer wings sprinkling out from our backs and the eternal space cascading above us. Descending into the night. Holding your pale moonlight marble against me and feeling it's warm glow. My heart sweltering and our passion taking its own form. Dividing into halos above our heads. And as we fly further into the starry sky, our souls intertwine. Angels ascending.
In the works... Prom and her lips makes a good subject for poetry.