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The evening slips away like fireflies through fingers. Your eyes turn from the color of sand at twilight to the indigo-blue of the ocean at night. Our easy laughter sinks into soft whispers as the sky shifts from peach blossoms to hushed velvet black. Your touch is no longer just soothing warmth. I can feel the buzz of electricity when your hand hovers nearer. As stars replace the sun and those lyrical night insects relieve the birds, my heart changes rhythm to match your own. Soon, the moon dangles overhead and we run out of words at last, our still lips meeting with sparks that set the night ablaze.
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
Fireflies
The evening slips away like fireflies through fingers. Your eyes turn from the color of sand at twilight to the indigo-blue of the ocean at night. Our easy laughter sinks into soft whispers as the sky shifts from peach blossoms to hushed velvet black. Your touch is no longer just soothing warmth. I can feel the buzz of electricity when your hand hovers nearer. As stars replace the sun and those lyrical night insects relieve the birds, my heart changes rhythm to match your own. Soon, the moon dangles overhead and we run out of words at last, our still lips meeting with sparks that set the night ablaze.
christine-r
Written by
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
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