Covered in glitter and crumbs. Waking up to maracas and fairy wings. Pockets full of rubber bands and dandelions. Buried under book piles. Dirty hands with homemade kombucha. Coffee in the rain. Waiting for that sacred scrap of silence.
Whoa, what a great dance party. It illustrates my thoughts about dancing too. Sometimes it just makes you feel like you are flying. Great Grandma Rene would have loved this.
Post a Comment