The air grew thin, thus it began.

We were our own little continent, shifting closer and closer to find our fit.

Two weeks shy of 16, even I could fit.

We lept out of ourselves, into the August air.

They restored us.

Sound funneled through cardiac territory, our mouths surrendered.

In lights, smoke, and love, we watched them glow.

Each dancing silhouette carried a story.

I was liberated, no longer unitiated.

Green and amazed, I reconciled:

I can't go back...

Cause now I know.







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