Peach dreams gurgle in sculptures of butterflies. A whirling headspin beats the rhythmic joy. Truthful exchange in semi-conscious sober state invites subtle felicity. Lip to lip, love returns, gently overflowing with childlike enthusiasm. Two hearts in delicate recuperation; hands intertwine to a pledge made seven months before. Farewell, to dubious tomorrows.

Happy Seventh this Second, my dearest love.