Cider and candor and cranberry kisses, firelight dancing – lowered inhibitions, our eyes caught up in intimate moments, soaking in these cinnamon-spiced secrets.
I’m half agony, half hope – like I’m a freshly cut bone, like the last stone that was held – then not thrown, like a garden where inspiration roots but never grows.
Here I am again, chasing shadows, as if I’m peter pan convincing Wendy not to grow up – I’m waiting for you in the between place. Dreaming and never quite awake.
The sea calls to me – she promises to set me free, it’s tempting- losing myself in her vastness allowing her to swallow me whole, beckoning me to make her deep darkness my forever home.
And the world seems just a little bit warmer, and the sun shines slightly brighter than it used to, and the days pass differently than before, and time is no longer stuck in a loop.
