holiday romance

in the evening, we went down to the lake. There were
small fires burning from the others, the air
sweet and heavy, and rich with the noise of
constant movement

they looked at us as strangers, first, until passive
acceptance took over. Much easier for both sides that way
and we shared the bottles and the food amongst ourselves
as the evening moved to night

the shore of the lake was lit by a giant moon and we
bathed in its etherial silver glow. Music played with
laughter, each competing for our senses by its
own itensity

silent sounds filled the night, and the innocent canvas
of our dreams. We slept late, and well, the stroking of
passive water gentle against our slumber when
movement slid to rest

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