They lay there intertwined, womb -like in their fetus dreams, only without the incest.
The wind carried the unfortunate marriage of pine and turpentine. A necessary evil in the removal of the nights acrylic adventures...
Involuntarily she twitched, still conscious, her new intentions shadowed by the nights meager light. Separating silhouettes. The moon still spoke the truth.
She stared into his eyes, as he focused on the stars she asked,
"are you afraid?"
"Of what?"
"Anything...?"
"Anything and everything, fear and excitement are so easily confused. But what scares me most is truth, or lack thereof, what scares me most is you."
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