Went travelling the countryside by train. Saw all the wonderful things we'd talked about
wishing you could smell the roses. We are swallowed up in blue sky, and dreaming
we were birds. And I'm afraid that if I blink my eyes, or move, or do anything I'll miss the trees and just start to unravel. Head coming away from my shoulder, all of me fading like our smiles in photographs from some distant life.
And someday I'm going to live here, and plant my own flowers, and name my own clouds, and sleep under the stars. And maybe someone will even come and find me.