I'll want to sleep out beneath the stars.
Even when our memory foam mattress is a lawn away.
I'll want to make a yogurt cake.
And lemon rind.
And eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
I'll want to race up a hill.
Promising you a secret.
Then at the top.
Say I've forgotten.
I'll forget you're there.
Because I'm so lost in my writing.
Or my reading.
Or noticing the way that tree there looks like it has string beans hanging from it.
I'll ask you what love is.
Just to be reminded.
You'll see me wearing floral dresses.
And it might be because I can't stand my thighs that day.
And it might be because I want to sweep you away.
I'll say, let's chuck our cellphones into the open fields as we drive by.
Because I really don't enjoy talking on the phone at all.
Sometimes I'll tell you to turn left here, and make a right turn there.
Not because I don't have faith in your driving.
But because sometimes I'm a know-it-all.
Even though most of the time.
I feel like I have so much more to learn.