When I found you, I'd been looking for you so long that I wasn't sure if you did exist, but somehow I just knew, so I never gave up. I was swept up in relief and exhilaration.
We played in the woods and stopped to look at the tiny orange mushrooms and to press our hands in the moss. We sat on a sheet spread out on the grass by the water and ate apples and pulled pieces of bread from the loaf to pair with the cheese we took with our fingers in chunks from the block.
And the night grew cooler and moonlight rippled on the dark water reflecting off the lake. We slid in and we shone white and smooth in the water and our bodies grew cold and covered in bumps so we swam close to each other for warmth.
And I'll always remember that day and draw inspiration from it and comfort myself with the memory of the feeling. And I'll use that memory to refresh myself on weary days.
