Tall arms wrapped around a waist that could belong only to a China doll. A breath of oxygen
was all that stood between them, smoky air curling and combining with city sirens, echoed

sounds flooded the sepia toned bedroom.

Fires made from dying embers. Cigarette smoke was exhaled, exchanged between mouths.
Memories overlapping, ebbing with a flow that was shared between the two. Tension between

the two ugly mounds of stone that could only be described as magic.

A certain glamour could be caught in the refuge of these burning bodies, one such of blue veins,
bruised stains crept along arms, led to each other. Three padded fingertips cautioned for a stop
in the midst of it all. Scarlet sound screaming for redemption. Tumbled sheets and down pillows
could only hide so much of the controlled chaos. Tsunamis and hurricanes were nothing against

these natural disasters.

They alone could be described as nothing less than a phenomenon.