Lavish luck

Jul 08, 2026

"Each day I love you more, today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow." — Rosemonde Gérard

The wind wanders.
Why shouldn’t I?

I would envy the swallows.
They stitch their soft black signatures
through the summer,
certain that every leaving
already contains a return.

Then I remember
I have you.
I wouldn’t want to leave.

I want ridiculous things.

To learn the cartography
of every mole.
To grow old enough
that our laughter
sounds like well-loved floorboards,
warm with years.

To watch your hair
borrow silver from the moon.

To kiss the quiet corners
time will someday carve
into your smile.

To become so familiar
that even silence
chooses to sit beside us.

You have done
the most dangerous thing
one human being
can do to another.

You have made
the future
beautiful.

What lavish luck,
to have someone be my favourite
place to return to.

I will stop asking
for extraordinary things.
The stars already have enough
to carry.

Instead, let me ask the universe
for embarrassingly small miracles.

One more birthday party.
One more sleepy smile.
One more year.
One more I love you.

I love you.
Let me have this tomorrow, too.