Tonight..

Like children wandering we walked arm in arm talking of the heart adventures of our moments, minutes, hours and days. Love is like a spell, once it's cast upon you, you will never be free from it's glorious sun or it's looming shadows.. But together, friends, sisters, we will take on the adventure with ears tucked deep to our hearts, listening, hands reaching and holding, bare feet dancing and tears ready to wash clean. This is life. This is love.


Hearts break and mend. Talking on the phone with old best friends.
Fox's fleet and find. Owls hoot and shake their change upon my life as if tossing a snow globe up into the air, it's tiny tabloe twisting and swirling before falling into a new kind of temporary home.
And there is excitement in me. 1000 miles from the place I call home.

Swinging high, hair flying, the gritty tang of metal from the chain, finding it's way through my noose; under the dreamy mask of twilight, sun faded pink and orange against the dark and utter horizon of hills green and purple and navy shadowed. Talk, flowing on, giggles and blessing and the quiet understanding of hardships, not meant to bare alone. Oh, the adventure of growing up, of finding the heart in life and falling in love.
We talked until it was simply heavy moonlight illuminating our quiet conversation and it was then that we stepped back onto the roads paved with dirt, mud and gravel and walked home. The excitement bubbling over and spilling down into the sleeping dandelion grass.

My heart is shadowed, it's gloom lays a pall over everything I live. My heart aches with the weight of this loss, this gain, this hurt, this pain. Through every moment, I feel the pull acutely.
I know exactly how I would fit into your arms, but that isn't my place anymore. I crave the touch of sweetness, of raw and unending passion. But I know true satisfaction comes from the underside of my heart, not that, which your sweet body can give me. So I stand alone, waiting. Breathing in the wind. If I close my eyes and spread my arms out wide, I can pretend I am a bird, an eagle, soaring over land small as postage stamps, nothing mattering except where the wind will take me next.

Love is always living. Are you?

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