I want to go away with you, driving down the West Coast.
I will buy a dark green van.
You’d like that.
We’ll drive seeking only stars and the knowledge of each other.
We can fill the back with grey, white and blue blankets for the trip will start off cold. We will need thick wetsuits to surf here and hot coffee to start our days. I can grind beans by hand, you know? We will fit a small mattress in the back of the van. It will not matter that it’s so small for we sleep with our limbs intertwined—like vines up a branch I wrap myself around you.
We can bathe in the sea, wrapping cold salty limbs in red towels. Socks thick as smoke curling over our toes. As we move south we will trade flannel, wool and fleece for linen and cotton.
We will stop to work at any cafe that draws us in, taking our time, for we are the bosses of our own time.
We will sleep under the stars, in the desert, having sex underneath the moonlight shouting passion into the wind, overcome by the beauty that exists behind each other’s eyes. Our love will make the moon blush and the clouds will appear to cover her eyes and we’ll sleep in rich darkness, cradled by the sky.
Mornings will be for morning surfs mixed with morning sex and the first sip of coffee that is sometimes better than both.
You will laugh at my red tin mug that says forest and waves for I bought it in the city long before I had the courage to exist—and here I am with you.
I want to spend mornings covered in saltwater and evenings covered in you.
We will meet beautiful people and furry creatures and you will have to pry more than one puppy from my paws.
We will buy books along the way, both new and used. I will fill a hundred notebooks with my words, writing a thousand poems. I will read aloud to you.
We will dive deeper into truth and joy and this will lead right back to the centre of each other.
You will fall more in love when I do.
I want to go on this trip with you.
Yet this trip begins and ends in the valleys of my mind for you took the last exit out of my heart miles and miles ago.
Author: Annabelle Blythe
Image: anja. p./Unsplash
Editor: Katarina Tavčar