I. The short film we have spent two years looking for is playing on a loop. You are leaning forward trying to memorize the color of the train in case we wake up and forget the director’s name and I am crying because I have waited so long for this.
II. Everyone I have ever loved in a separate room waiting for me.
III. A hammock in the yard. All of my bedrooms and all of the beds I have slept in. I never say I love you first, or I do, and it feels like drawing a warm bath, like sinking into something clear and clean and full of bubbles.
IV. A bowl of blackberries. My old dog. Plush carpet and thousands of pillows.
V. I fall asleep like candle wax melting down. Every morning, I wake up to Spring.
VI. Here, in Heaven, we have everything we want and none of it matters. Here, in Heaven, even the way you say my name sounds like honey and wind chimes and carbonation. Here, in Heaven, it is so easy to love you. So easy to know you’ll never leave.