“Unapologetically smitten with thunderstorms...the thought of rough sex beneath an acid washed moon and hydrated stars...”
“We ran for the forest, crashing through the stalks of wheat, beneath the rising moon and the stars spinning farther and farther away, alone beneath the godless sky.”
“Shadows gathered as they had done for eons, beneath the moon and the twinkling of a million stars, like a gathering of forgotten deities.”
“rain is acid...sex is death....”
“Time steals from us the capacity to be smitten, does it not? It slowly but surely washes away all your enthusiasm and deposits uncertainty in its place.”
“His voice is like a thunderstorm, and his hands know every secret hidden deep beneath the cool, dark earth.”