I want Sunday afternoons with you. We’ll sit by the river and watch the sun descend slowly on the horizon. The moon and stars will come out and join us. But instead of trailing back home you’ll rest your head on my lap and clutch my hands. You’ll stare at me. I’ll stare back. We’ll laugh. And kiss… Or we could just sit in silence. Lost. Gone somewhere else. Strangers catching a glimpse of each other. I’ll look at you longer than I’m allowed to. To study your eyebrows, your cheeks, your teeth. Preserved, for when you are gone again.
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Narratives of a Dreamer 