Let's fall in love next year.
Between June and September. I’ll be in a sundress and you can bring me flowers. 

We can walk on clouds, fall into rabbit holes, make plans for a picnic on the moon.

A year from now I’ll be able to tell you, “We never make it that far." 

But next year…
It sounds like a lovely promise.

I only wish we could keep it.

—  A scribbler // Next Year