(no subject)
Lying in the grass, faced down, we hide from the torrid heat of August days. We held hands and carved our names onto the wings of butterflies. The setting sun hovered in idleness, for the last few moments of felicity. Suddenly, we found ourselves beneath a sky blackened red, picking up shards of the past. As we stagger through the maze of utter confusion, your eyes scan across my white dress, only now stained red from the shower of burning stars we weren't able to dodge. Yet still, we run on, growing more ruthless with each stride. Just floating through the fallen leaves, trying not to asphyxiate on the percipitant Autumn night. Then on the last day of Winter, I ran with you, through the last of the fresh snow. Barefoot, the stinging sensation livened up our gelid bodies, exhilarating burning. We escaped from our bodies through an empty orifice in our hearts, only to be washed away by the unflagging midnight rain.