I want a Sunday morning kind of life
coffee on the porch
pile of pillows in bed
the newspaper folded the way you always did

Those days wasted
talking about heading for the coast
living in the sand and sea
your skin on mine
in perfect pace

I want just another one of those days
with ice cream on your chin
and the grass between our toes
the smell of lavander or honeysuckle
long walks in the sun