Holding your soft hands and dancing through sunrays around in circles as we smile and cherish each other's comfort through the loneliness in our hearts. Golden hour peaks and you sing through my treasure chest filled with open treasures of golden honey, and that honey drips down the surface of my fingertips as we kiss each other in a warm gleam of freedom and surpass realms of stars and dreams. The honey trickles our kisses and makes a sticky hot mess under the steaming sun as it begins to set through white fluffy clouds. Feeling high like cloud 9 I want to feel your chest pressed against mine, forever and key it into a lock that cannot ever be undone. I love you.
The memories we make feel like a never ending escape through Alcatraz. A portal so clean and pure.
Being in love, feels like you're high. p.s: I never been high, only high on love.