We shout our wishes to the breezes. Try on masks in small town op shops. Wolf down pies before howling midnight tunes in sunny backyards on trampolines.
I am letting the light into that small chamber where romance is playful and dreams still come true. Every bad accent is a reaffirmation that the only location that matters is here.
In the moments when the connections electric, when sparks are fire flies under fluroescent lights. My heart surges and fuses get broken. Buzzing like power lines.
