I want to run away with you in the cusp of my hand and you’d be sitting in my palm, helpless and beautiful. I’d run along the sea with you cupped in my fingers and I’d run past the trees and over the sand and it’d be golden, golden like your hair and mine when it’s intertwined the way it is when we wake up together, every morning. I’d try to outrun the sky but the blue would catch up to me eventually; I know it would. Turquoise, like the sea, and the sky, and your eyes.

I remember getting up next to you one morning after the sun filtered past the dust on the windows and warmed our faces. When we rose from the bed there was a depression (it was shaped like us) on the mattress and I can vaguely recall you laughing at it and snapping a picture. It was funny then; you hugged me and you smelled like citrus fruits and you told me you wanted a picture like that every morning.

You lost your camera the very next day; at the airport.

I go to the playground a lot more often these days, and I sit at the swings we got too big for. The wind tosses my hair and when I close my eyes and take deep breaths (you told me I ought to!) I can smell the salt and brine of the sea and when I look up I’m next to you on the H.M.S. Cormorant and you’re sitting on the deck with starfish all around you.

They were pink and faintly specked with brown. “Warning coloration!” you told me. To be exact they were cerise pink, and they were mottled brown because they’d been in the sun too long and were drying out. You were trying to make something with all of them though; they were some kind of a mini-project for you. You never gave up but ended up threading them all together to make some manner of a necklace and you framed it up. It’s still on the wall but the paint behind it is peeling; I thought you might like to know.

When I went on business trips with you (occasionally, to boot) you’d fold your smile and slip it into your breast pocket together with your napkin. It was only from time to time that you took both out and wiped your mouth with them. Your teeth are like porcelain, they shone so bright it hurts to remember them.

I remember every, single, thing, about you.

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OH MY GOD I HAVE LOST IT.

oh, and esther and esther! if you uhm ever see this! i dare you to write something out with the prompts: sky bed hand swing sea because it'd be cool, wouldn't it (: and i mean both of you (:

(omg the ending, the ending! D: i want comments, coughhintethanyn!)