every word murmured softly in cherry lip gloss syllables sung like the lullaby of a vintage record playing, dancing in the dust dripped perfume only silk bows and heart shaped sunglasses whisper of, lost in our own personal silent film
kissing in rain that electrified our universe with warm drops of starlight, smoke drifting between our lust painted lips as if we were breathing in the last lyrics of a lana del rey song, fingers caught together in a dance of harmony, lost in an orchestra of watercolor paintings
we are as full of celestial shimmering as a glass of vanilla champagne, foams of laughing bubbling over the noise of a crowded party, sipping up each-others flavorful delight and butterscotch musings, a jukebox playing a nostalgic song in the back of our immaculate minds
polaroid pictures
and fine lace stockings
if this isn't heaven on earth
d a r l i n g
than we must be
in the euphoria
of a vintage
r o m a n c e
you are one of the lovely ladies in the argyle skirt and with vermillion soaked lips, eyes glimmering like the inside of a london nightclub, delicious curtains of spiderweb lace hiding a secret of moonlit desire
may i take this dance?
