This is what bottle rocket butterflies feel like. Second drink courage on the first date. There are lust-filled landmines exploding under my feet. Someone stuck a metal fork into the toaster and there are sparks everywhere. Snap, crackle, pop. Orange Fanta fizz. This is that time we French kissed with Fun Dip coated tongues. Sparkler sizzle. Mentos in Coke. Firefly rave.
By Emma Yahr