I make movies in my mind, or sometimes they write themselves in my sleep.
In one movie I see you smiling, coming into the bedroom as I wake up. I tell you about some plans for the day and you laugh. You pick up a towel and glance at me as you step into the shower.
In another movie you gaze into the distance as I rest my head on your shoulder, your arm around me, both of us not speaking a word. I think about the future while wondering if you were thinking about it too.
And then the light hits my eyes and the movies begin to fade.
I choose to linger in the fog, to make the movies keep playing, because then the world looks like a garden in the mist. Because then distance and time disappear.