infatuation

Dropping into infatuation is the epitome of ecstasy. The falling never stops with wings of ignorance and fantasy. The sweet honey air flows quickly into the past. The perfumed flowers cling gently to flesh, but are stripped harshly by winds of knowledge and exploration. Gradually the wings crack and break and fall into the dark below. There's no more happiness, but the falling continues. There is no light or even a gleaming gem of hope or a cloud to catch. There is no more until it starts again.