And finally, when we lay in the shade, my ear pressed to your heartbeat, you said you had never felt so alive.
I wanted to lie like that forever, just me and you and the whole world.
Monday, September 19, 2011
"Those not busy being born are busy dying." - Bob Dylan
Remember that day, when the leaves crunched between our bare, naked toes and we could feel the earth shift and heave beneath us as we walked, and ran, and jumped? Remember how we felt that day, as if nothing was ever going to change, as if nothing could tear us apart, with that soft, damp breeze whistling through the trees and the sun slowly sinking out of sight? We were like children again, with the promise of tomorrow hovering in the air, waiting for us to catch it, waiting for us to take the one thing that belonged to us. Hope. Hope for more days like this. For new life, new beginnings, for sunsets like fireworks.
And finally, when we lay in the shade, my ear pressed to your heartbeat, you said you had never felt so alive.
I wanted to lie like that forever, just me and you and the whole world.
And finally, when we lay in the shade, my ear pressed to your heartbeat, you said you had never felt so alive.
I wanted to lie like that forever, just me and you and the whole world.
