and we will always spend sundays in bed. waking up slow, naked and all tangled up in egyptian cotton sheets. giggles and kisses spilling forth from sleepy lips. conversations held in murmurs.


and we will always spend weekdays tumbling out of bed. three snoozes on the alarm each. quiet groans and "one more snuggle." faces buried in skin and breathing in. slow-motion starts but henceforth, all movements flurried.


and we will always spend mealtimes talking, laughing, sometimes hand-holding, face-gazing in sweet silence. always trying to pause the moment. stories, so many stories. nothing held back between us. food, drink, close contact. our stomachs will fill as our souls will. and as i stand at the sink busy washing dishes and cutlery clean, you will stand right next to me—doing a jig whilst drying.


and we will always spend car rides with the music blasting, singing at the very top of our lungs. making out at every stoplight, holding our breaths through tunnels. we will mock quarrel over who gets to drive but the one who does not will always be dj.


and we will always spend time together making memories. slow dancing in the street, long drives to nowhere in particular, finding ourselves lost in the moments whenever we are together; always finding our way back to one another.


and we will always have each other to do it all over, all over again. just one more time. with feeling.