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The best kind of fireworks are the ones you can feel.
We feel awe as we gaze up at their beauty. The danger of their power. We feel wonder at the bright flashes of light, making the night sky explode with pyrotechnic magic, then slowly dying away into nothingness. We feel the anticipation of seeing a rocket being launched into the air, waiting to see what it will transform into at its apex. The pounding in our chests with each burst of color.
This is what we feel as we lay side by side, staring up from our blanket. We are not alone in the park watching the show, but right now our universe is focused on each other and the display before us. I tell you it is just for us. I call you my princess. You hate it when I do that, but I love the way it makes your face scrunch up. I fix it by kissing your pouting lips, loving the way you melt for me.
Returning our eyes to the sky, your lips part and you murmur, "these are the best kind of fireworks."
"No," I counter, turning to gaze into your eyes, "we make the best kind of fireworks."
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- 9 years ago
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