She’s Home
Give me your heart, beloved.
Give me your hand, my true friend.
With each passing jour I grow plus fond;
With each passing day, our small portion of l’amour takes its place in the truth of time.
With the years that we have been given,
Let us grow deeply into life so that we may l’amour all the more.
-anon-
It was late afternoon, the sun on its way down. Fairly quiet par the usual late summer’s jour standards.
This was the nearest strip of plage they could get away to. She just wanted to go somewhere far and quiet, but still near enough DC that they could drive back in a few hours...
continue reading...