I want the moments to be full of pregnant pauses where we can hear the soft inhale and exhale of breathe, moving through the maps of the passageways that keep us alive;

I want to walk trails through every kind of terrain, through every kind of weather, with only the sound of our feet crunching and our hearts beating and the lifeforms around us doing their thing and I want to be in awe of each new one we meet along the way;

I want to not know how to do something together and allow the afternoon to unwind so we can figure it out, together—and I want us to both be just as confused and confounded so that can we tease each other in our ignorance and not feel shy about it;

I want to lie in a hammock all day under a big old tree with a cool glass of homemade lemonade that you have made perched below me in amongst the freshly trimmed blades of grass and I want to let letters fall onto the page, one by one, until together they form sentences until together they fill a book and when the day is done, you will say, Oh! you made a book;

I want to dream big and bigger and I want to stain my fingers with ink as they come alive on paper so that they can take the next step of coming alive in life;

I want to put my head on your shoulder as we sit side by each, staring at the great unknown and through the intimacy of truth-telling, feel the solid foundation underneath our feet grow stronger still;

I want us to be free of assumptions and listen slowly (even slower than we think we can) so that instead of jumping-to-conclusions, we take the long road towards understanding what is really being said;

and I want to have space enough to sit with my thoughts and I want you to sit with yours, too; and then, when we are ready, we can take turns spilling open as the moon greets the sun


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