If I were to ask you frankly to meet me forever, you’d know how my intent has become certain. Tomorrow, I’d pour you gold coffee and we can sit across the shadow of the pier and drink the night as it safely closes. Kiss me Orane, and realise how welcome we can make our days.
Sit with me and listen to the stars, singing songs about mulberry wine and saved hope. Swill this tune and all the folds that blind our eyes and bind our smiles will meld into the spaces in between. Be saught after Orane, and yield to the knowing that this universe presents to your feet.
It will be as simple as nature allows and I dare. To prevent risk of superfluous ramble, this is the end. I bid you, Orane, my best hand.