04-13-2024, 11:36 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-13-2024, 11:39 AM by Quixilated.)
The sky kept crackling bright;
wind and thunder rattled our bones,
while the warm summer rain
gushed down in torrents—
a storm to steal the breath
and electrify the blood.
And we were out in it, dancing
under the moon like little fey folk
in pjs and muddy bare feet
shrieking into the night
with childhood glee.
wind and thunder rattled our bones,
while the warm summer rain
gushed down in torrents—
a storm to steal the breath
and electrify the blood.
And we were out in it, dancing
under the moon like little fey folk
in pjs and muddy bare feet
shrieking into the night
with childhood glee.
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara