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.
let's live a happiness ... into a ****** young love ... i just created a heart ... my heart ... it's door ... is a closed ... not open for anyone ... only ... just ... for you ... it been created ... and formed ... as great palace ... only for you ... to enjoy my love there ...
I wish I was a burning ball of gas ripping through the air, so that you could look at me while I was up there, and not be aware, and not even care, that you're the reason I left my body, and shed my skin and other parts of it, to become something so bare and rare and perfect and orange, that you forgot to breathe when you came across it, and you'd stand there with your chin up, lip parted at the sky above, wondering how God could've created with love, but never explained its beauty to no one, and I'd rip and twirl and burst and whirl, before your eyes like shimmering pearl, and you'd never know that I was just a girl, who left herself to brighten your world.