Jan. 5, 2012

we'll spend our mornings whispering to each other in bed as the sun peeks through our open windows and thin curtains. the salty breeze will roll in with it, lifting our bodies to begin our day. in the kitchen, we'll fight over mugs and pour milk we taint with store-brand strawberry flavoring. we'll eat over cartoons and an old coffee table from the thrift store in relative silence. time will tick by and off we'll roam, our footsteps following behind. we'll pick up the deserted homes of crustaceans and point out the crabs that burrow beneath our toes. the tide will chase us and soak our shins and we'll laugh as the receding sand tickles our heels. we'll tumble back home to our sandy porch where i'll read and you'll draw, and the gulls will sing their songs from above. for lunch, we'll chow down on whatever we can find--a combination of processed foods and fresh grown fruits. we'll fool around and bathe each other before we nap peacefully, looped together, under thin beige sheets. we arise once more as the sky melts away, and we'll adventure the town or lounge around: either way we'll be happy. just you, me, and our beach-house, and not a single goodbye to be had.