Daydreams

We would live by the beach. Always the beach. I would have a small herb garden. I would grow thyme and rosemary. I would wear an apron and make breakfast. You would smell my hair and tell me good morning. You would make the toast and set the table.

We would sit watching the waves while we ate. After we ate we would go for a walk along the beach. Barefoot. I would ask you to walk closer to the ocean. Our feet would touch the soft sand, and then as we walked further the sand would become damper and firmer. We would walk along the shore, cold water rushing over our toes and then retreating.

I would hold your hand and tell you stories about when I was a little girl. You would bring my hand to your lips and kiss my fingertips. You would tell me about places you've traveled to and what food tastes like in France and what it's like to live Morocco.

And then I'd take my dress off and walk into the ocean and you would watch me. You would smile and join me. The water would be cold and our pulse would quicken. We would kiss.

Once we got back to our house we would take a shower. You'd pick me up and fuck me against the shower wall.

You would help me wash my hair. I would wash your back. Gently tracing your spine with my fingers.

And then we would take a nap in our bed, and wonder if we were dreaming or if this was real.

And when I'd wake up alone to the sound of traffic. I'd know, it had only been a dream. And I would ache to sleep again.