golden hours never ask for permission; they just make everything beautiful maybe that’s why i love them, they remind me of me.
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i’m not meant to stay in one place too long my soul is a summer highway, loud music, wind-kissed hair, and freedom that tastes like citrus on my tongue. i burn bright, i move fast, and i leave a trail of sunsets behind me.
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golden hours never ask for permission; they just make everything beautiful maybe that’s why i love them, they remind me of me. right away.
golden hours never ask for permission; they just make everything beautiful maybe that’s why i love them, they remind me of me. right away.