Scenes of you play behind my eyelids at night. Those memories, sharp enough to cut through the banalities of my day, drive me to distraction, and envelop me as I tread water against time.
I remember your kiss; how I shut my eyes so tightly, and the feel of your lips and your arms around me, and how time moved faster and slower at the same time.
I fell into those moments, fell into you.
We owned the streets in our sleepy town that night. Stomping and yelling with abandon, we invented lives for each passerby, laughing carelessly into the night and pushing back against the changing sky. I leaned into the passage of time and felt safe in the reflection of my eyes in yours.
I laid my head on your chest and listened to your heartbeat and your slow, steady breaths. You told me about that night when you had a clear view of the stars, and wanting a place to call your own. I told you about my fear of heights and how I’d felt when I saw you for the first time. In the dark we pressed our smiles together.
You whispered about the secret lives of large-beaked birds, and the unavoidable inefficiencies of burning bridges to keep warm.
Watching our shadows loom large on the walls in the flicker of candlelight we howled with wolves and fought the morning off as it tried to creep in uninvited.
Although I’d tried to block your path, you turned my mind and heart on their ends and shook the dust and cobwebs from their dark corners. Windows shuttered and boarded up, I’d long written those tiny spaces off as dead and wasted, buried beneath the embrace of a life spent doing as I’m told. Buried under an unwelcome loop of my mistakes and those sharp words repeated into the night for longer than I should have allowed. You are always new.
You allow me to breathe. My sweet.
I adore you.
Story Written by Arielle Mae
Photography by Vince Vanguard Photography
Follow on Instagram: @lazerxwolf
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