Notary.

Null and void.

No longer does she wait.

It was but a dream state, that felt like immersion in liquid amber.

Hot, sweet, and tangy, with a dash of salt.

Richly hued and imbued with tones of cotton candy, Crème Brûlée and swirling Sangria.

Now, simply a bowl filled with the remnants of water colours mixed together. Gently graying as each moment ticks by.

When the hues are gone, there will be nothing left.

And parted lips, that so longed to be next, will silently close.

Ending a very long chapter of the heart.

l’heure bleue …

There is magic in the in between.

Sparkling stars whisper sweet nothings

as the moons cool light begins to envelop the ether.

A time of fairies – phantoms – silent flowery folding’s

and

passions release.

Neither light or dark

instead

an astronomical twilight

of

delight

and

wonder.

l’heure bleue