I don't know why I spend my time
writing words that you'll never read
with meanings that strain credulity
I lay beside you in the hammock on our beach, my face resting against your bosom, your beating heart filling my world. You are asleep and so I tell you that you have a beautiful smile. I tell you that I won't close my eyes, lest I lose you to a dream.
In the fading light of the sun, you lay rocking to and fro in our hammock waiting for me. I pause on our porch, watching the last rays of the sun bathe the contours of your body. Setting down the glass of Talisker whiskey on the wooden rail defining the porch, I walk down the few steps of beach to join you on the hammock.
I open the door to our home, walk in, and see your car keys on our kitchen table. Smiling with anticipation I shed my briefcase and shoes, loosen my tie, and pour myself a glass of whiskey. Two ice cubes in the glass, I turn the music on for the speakers facing our beach and am ready to dance with you. As I step onto our porch, I see the trail of clothes you have shed on your way to our hammock.
I call out your name, but when I look at the beach you are not there.
With every passing month, every passing year, it gets harder to write you into my life, but I swear by the words still left in me that we will dance together again at sunset on our beach.