Damp hands on sticky skin
With red clover marks shaped like hand prints on pale flesh
Translucent moans with interspersed sighs that
Fill silence like fog
Looks shared like the end of the world is near
Mass extinction of the senses as wind picks up
And then drops us over precipices
5 miles high
Breathless gasp of excitement
Before hitting the grass soft ground
Falling asleep to the sounds of waves
Hitting ribcages
Air moving out of
Lungs and throats
Warm sunny thoughts burned through eyelids
Blissful sleepy heads nestled into back seats
Of cars
Unnoticed
Thank God