The whisper of my exhalation melted into the soft waves of the summer air, which taunted me softly through the shield of fading skin.

Sprawled, continuously searching through the constellations of grass, weeds, and gaping voids of cracked Earth, my hair delved deep into the roots of the bed I lay in.

The velvet aroma of you fogged my reality, eclipsing my senses glistening brighter than the final setting of the August sun.

Underneath a thick heartbeat, I shook.

Your embrace dictated my actions, controlling the bend of my thumb and the extent of my legs, but surrendered against my swirling organs and blazing heart.

The sun whined, apologetically, towards our shadows.

My teeth awaken; my lips quiver, grasping for air, drowning in your cocoon.

I can taste the halcyon night approaching, as the bitter taste of complete darkness tickled the tip of my tongue.

Secure, underneath a blanket full of possibilities, your fingernails recoiling deep into the seams of my sweater, I can’t move.

You lay there, offensive towards all porcelain for being so still and so perfect. With every gust you expel, it inflates me with the promise of adventure.

The stars drip onto the small of my back.

I’m not cold, nor warm, but full.

Each continuous drop of the thawed sky engulfs us both, staining the skeleton of our connected bodies that lay quiet, ready for the next splendor.