Jungle fever dreams, moments between Danny Lane and girlfriend/ eternal muse Clare, with her high set cheekbones and mystery eyes. The two spent some time in Costa Rica and we cannot decide which is more beautiful: their love, her thighs, or the jungle itself. Swoon.
We write ourselves letters from the jungle. I say, tell me about the way you taste at sunrise, remind me how the sun follows on our heels, and the nights observe the silence. I say remind me how in love we are, and how love isn’t even a word for all this.
In this slice of time we learn more about being fireflies. They can sync their flashes together over miles and miles. And I get lost along the dips of your thighs. We talk about never leaving, talk about lunch, talk about who we are going to be like they are people we might meet. I make an effort to say I am happy at the same time the happiness is happening. And if I wake sweat soaked in jungle dreams your touch is a tonic that puts me back to sleep.
Peep Danny & Clare’s previous editorial in Vermont here.