Do you think heaven has paintings? I want to make my heaven equally peaceful and loud. Depending on my hearts thoughts. Bold and joyful noises that make way for silent contemplation.
Bird-song one moment, and waterfalls the next. Jazz and sexy Southern voices, sinful fabrics across my thighs.Violins and less classy fiddles, reminding me of my roots.
I want soft and warm, cool and refreshing. Windy gusts that make my hair feel caressed by passing sunlight.
I want the scent of coconut, lime, cinnamon and mint. I want lemon and citrus. I want musk and male. Timeless and brand new. I want the contradictions to be the norm.
I want paintings. Thinking bursts of color and emotion. Oils and watercolors. Classic painters cuddled up with unknowns, with more enthusiasm than skill. Laughter and gazing. Hands and lips and reassuring skin against skin.
I want heaven, while I am alive to properly live in it and still call it heaven.
I want heaven, a place to rest my head and know my worth is not so much measured, as enveloped, absorbed, entwined. With the world that always knew I was beautiful, and was just wauting for me to know it also.
Good night. Sweet apple.