

Post 3/3 - 2 images. In my dreams, we are dancing in the light. Our clothes, made of air, flow around us as we turn. Music moves us to dance, but it is not music as we know it - it is the spontaneous symphony of our inhales and exhales, our laughs, our hair brushing across bodies, our bodies brushing across grass, a music both ancient and avant-garde. Your smile is a sound: it rings out across the fields to me. with @artemisfit
P.S. The 'avant-garde' thing might be a bit much :p but I am enjoying writing whatever comes to mind.