Golden Days

"Golden days. I long for golden days. Golden days with sunshine. Full of laziness. Lazy smiles, lazy caresses, lazy eyes. Slow movements. The sound of the ocean lulling me into a sense of tranquility. A little place. Too small to keep me busy. Too big to be able to make me feel locked up. Open doors. Strangers' feet walking in. Friends' feet walking out. Cold drinks from the little fridge that's difficult to open. A dress flowing lightly. My skin feeling tighter at night. Staring into nothing for hours with no sense of time. Things falling into place without me pushing them. Quietness. Kicking the sheets off at night. The unwelcomeness of a mosquito. The safety of the white net above the bed. Curled up. Sunkissed cheek against a soft pillow. Lying awake in bed in the morning until my bladder forces me out. Local food. Different food. Light food. Easy food. A book; bent to horrific measures and full of sand and secrets. A dog showing up on my doorstep from time to time who wanders off after a pat on the back. A cold beer, a glass of wine. Feet up. Feet up so much I only exchange it for waves rushing over them. Books scattered, read and used. Full of highlighted meaningful passages. Smiles. Love rushing out. Love rushing in. Too many deep breaths to count; the ones that go deep into your tummy. A hammock for naps at midday when it's too warm to think."

"Alone?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't really matter."