Feb. 19th, 2026

michaelboy: (Default)


There was a place to where you led me (or at least I imagined it was so), that all clouds were turned with the dark-side up and the rest of the sky was rather like a castaway citrus - bobbing around the island in its own azure sea. Here the air was scented better than any dryer-sheet could ever imagine and the incredible wind in its whimsy; swept and tousled your hair (so bold as to even tatter your sundress - yet not in any forlorn fashion).
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