“We could run away, you and I, into the mountains,” she says. And it’s such a beautiful thought that I allow myself to believe, just for a minute, that we could survive in the snow, with the bears and wolves.
“We could steal a boat,” she laughs, and it’s so ridiculous that I join in.
“We could wave at the dolphins and the whales as they pass by, and wake up to the kind of filling silence I know you like.”
“We could travel the world,” she whispers, just as I’m falling asleep. “I’ll take you to Paris or Bermuda or Rome or Crete. The water tastes different there, like berries, it’s sweet.
She kisses me gently on the top of my head,
“And you’d like the sky there, in these places, I bet.”