I dream of the curl of your brown hair, the curve of your smile in the palm of my hand. I dream of giving you the ocean, a thousand miles of sunset and salt and bright air, ours to take and taste. I dream of the steps to get there: the time it will take, the ways we will grow, the miles we’ll travel to put our faces in the wind.

Who will we be, when we’re old? And what dreams will we chase in the meantime? A wide world, so much to want from it, and you and I so capable, fearless, brave under a big sky and gaining strength.

I dream of being next to you at night when your body slows and your breath is grounded in the bottom of the day. I dream of the mundane details where you are present: the artifacts of you in my life, the ticket stubs, hairbands, dinner plates. The days made sweeter by the works of your hands, there is no place I’d rather be than with you.