You feel light, almost hollow, as if your heart has been replaced by a flickering candle. The wind hums a low, orchestral melody—a lullaby for the restless—and as you reach for his hand, the ground dissolves into a mist of gold glitter.
In the velvet-blue twilight of a world that never wakes, the air tastes like jasmine tea and old cinema film. You are standing on a balcony made of salt and moonlight, watching the Pacific Ocean turn into a liquid opal. yes to heaven but more dreamy / lana del rey
You aren’t going to heaven; you’re simply drifting into the part of the dream where the music never fades out, and the red dress you’re wearing never loses its sway. You feel light, almost hollow, as if your