This is a world of dreams and reverie, where I felt the stars explode around me.
A grass blade flashed with a gleam as it slashed open a moonbeam, and I stared back breathlessly.
As mountains of fruit tumbled out, I barely had the chance to shout;
a lingonberry avalanche crashed over me.
.
title: I like...
Monday, 12 April 2010 AT 3:52 pm
I like windy days. I like the smell of spring. I like airmail paper. I like watching my fingers while I type. I like nonsense. I like vintage underwear. I like things that are strawberry flavoured (including strawberries). I like dreaming of flying. I like receiving letters. I like songs that make you want to dance. I like daydreaming. I like newborn flowers. I like friendly cats nudging along my ankles. I like skirts that swish. I like the clink of teacups. I like fluttering eyelashes. I like smudgy eyes. I like old suitcases. I like postcards. I like the sea. I like secrets. I like honey eyes. I like ribbons and lace. I like beautiful chains of words. I like fluffy morning clouds. I like the calm after the storm. I like Paris. I like pronouncing "Paris" the French way (it dances on my tongue). I like velvety skies. I like birdsong. I like the sound of typewriters. I like the smell of magazines. I like the light that filters through leaves. I like dewy grass. I like red nails. I like new books. I like reading past midnight. I like the night air. I like stargazing. I like promises that are kept. I like new leaves. I like double consonants. I like blossom trees. I like men with brogues. I like ankle socks. I like listening to music by myself. I like masks. I like finding feathers. I like buttons. I like writing these. I like people who remember my name. I like you, dearest.
I like windy days. I like the smell of spring. I like airmail paper. I like watching my fingers while I type. I like nonsense. I like vintage underwear. I like things that are strawberry flavoured (including strawberries). I like dreaming of flying. I like receiving letters. I like songs that make you want to dance. I like daydreaming. I like newborn flowers. I like friendly cats nudging along my ankles. I like skirts that swish. I like the clink of teacups. I like fluttering eyelashes. I like smudgy eyes. I like old suitcases. I like postcards. I like the sea. I like secrets. I like honey eyes. I like ribbons and lace. I like beautiful chains of words. I like fluffy morning clouds. I like the calm after the storm. I like Paris. I like pronouncing "Paris" the French way (it dances on my tongue). I like velvety skies. I like birdsong. I like the sound of typewriters. I like the smell of magazines. I like the light that filters through leaves. I like dewy grass. I like red nails. I like new books. I like reading past midnight. I like the night air. I like stargazing. I like promises that are kept. I like new leaves. I like double consonants. I like blossom trees. I like men with brogues. I like ankle socks. I like listening to music by myself. I like masks. I like finding feathers. I like buttons. I like writing these. I like people who remember my name. I like you, dearest.
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