spring
2014-03-16 @ 7:58 p.m.

there's no other way i'd rather spend my weekend than at home, with you. you're on the balcony pruning the plants and repotting the newbies while i'm in the kitchen, sauteeing some onions for our brunch. while i'm writing in the art studio, you're playing the guitar or hanging up some photos. and then, we come together for a drink in the hazy orange glow of sunday sunsets, and we're eating a leftovers for dinner with our feet up on the coffee table. there might be one of your documentaries playing on the tv, or maybe you're letting me watch a guilty pleasure reality tv show. either way, there's a wind coming in from the balcony doors and there's a hum from the distant street noise outside our windows. and just maybe, there might be a faint holler of the train in the distant. this is spring.