(no subject)
Lately I've been yearning to ride bikes again. Have a rooftop picnic under the stars and eat till our stomachs push out. Plant a garden that will burst with vegetables, fruits, and flowers. Write postcards in secret codes. Build houses in trees and bring trees into houses. Read childhood stories to each other. And softly hum lullabies until we drift off to sleep with heads on stomachs and interwined arms. But then I realized that you don't like being read to, I sometimes kick in my sleep, and we never stay out past midnight anyways.