I could call her my pretty baby, she could call me her fool. We could take a nice night out, keep our hands to ourselves and pretend that life was just a game, and we were it's tools.
God could take our hearts as a memoir of the night, crystallized, to keep pure and whole. Held in a pedestal, for all to awe at. And we could repeat that day over and over.
*That would be my heaven.