The beginning of another summer. The sun creeps over my pillow and warms my face, waking me by 09:00 am. I swing my legs out of bed and push the window slightly ajar, welcoming in the breeze and the gentle sounds of carefree birds; distant traffic.
The air carries that fresh, floral scent which laments the spring months and foreshadows the long days and warm nights. The promise of perfect days spent in the sun rushes in through the open window – the sizzle of meat on a barbeque; the shimmering of a thousand drops of water cascading from my body as I break the surface of the ocean. Cool, clear, crisp.
Won’t you spend those days with me?
Evenings spent watching the fiery trail of the receding sun from the very top of a quiet hill, our faces illuminated by the glow of its star-crossed wake.
We are young; we are freer than we think. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder: so can’t we turn our ripped, stained canvas into something abstract, but nonetheless beautiful?
I’ll show you my world if you show me yours.