the fire's hot and bright, the kindling pops and the moonshines. we warm our blood with appetites for everclear and moonshine. before i ever laid hands on her, i saw my world in black and red. it's quiet now on our air mattresses. we grow our shadows miles high, throwing monsters up through the tree line, and the smoke climbs. squint your eyes when the wind blows north and the embers blow. the coals burn and you're breathing slows. we're at the edge of the earth somehow, sleeping safely from our ledge, peering down from our air mattresses.
all rights reserved