Trip and Slip

I trip on the rug and slip into the future. 

Into water. I wave for help. 

You smile and take a picture. 

A wave dumps me onto a pile of 

photos of you and me. Smiling. Waving. 

Someday, after I replace that rug, 

you and I will meet. 

We will find this beach 

that you’ve never seen. 

A beach I will return to. 

Because I love you. 

And I want to find you again.

published in Write Under the Moon