Love, be mystical as the flickering blue flame of night as the fully-awoken moon beneath cobwebs of passing clouds amidst chanting high-tides fuzzy, as my blanket big enough to illuminate a hundred thousand billion galaxies and just small enough to fit into my embrace.
I want to read every book that’s written hear every song that was sung I want to gaze at every cloud and hold the zing of each fruit on my tongue.