In Her Grip

Adventure
Smells like the rain
Torrential downpours
And the aftertaste of lightning.
Adventure
Looks like twilight
The darkening sky
Teetering on the edge of time.
Adventure
Sounds like A natural to F sharp
DAF#D
Up an octave
Pounding through my ears.
Adventure
Is cool to the touch
Like metal on railroad tracks
Beckoning to lands unknown.
Adventure
Loves like the silken moon
Spattered against a navy sky
Fingers entwined beneath it.
Adventure
Is not
A brown classroom
Fake yellow lighting
A tousled bed
Closed windows
Peeling wallpaper
Dress code
Refraining from public affection
Broken promises
Stress over tomorrow,
Adventure can never be
Stress over tomorrow.
For adventure,
True adventure,
Is today.

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