Time:6:00 pm
Folding up their voices into tiny droplets of summer, voices ring and the window panes vibrate almost willingly. Some nights they sing, and someday they will come to realize THIS was the apple core of innocence and purity, that precise friction of a moment. Hands were held and laughter spilt, music was the magical ingredient. Love was not understood at that stage in their lives, if any it was a vague concept of something extremely beautiful but very distant. Almost remote. They would tilt back their heads and laugh, eyelashes tilted at the perfect angle for receiving light. And light they did receive.
As all voices blended into one harmonious hum, their strong hearts pump hard against their young rib cages as if wanting to break free from a flow of green blood.
Thick and smooth as honey. I would even call it sweet. Because that's what young blood ripened in wholesome climates would give to the tongue.
Diana, Good for you!!!
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