the threads in her head

I thought I had posted this before, but it turns out I haven't.

Written Valentine's Day last year.

We played on sun-kissed sand.

Warm, toasty warm dry sand tumbling in between our toes, as the lovely warm spread from toe to heart. The glorious evening sun outlining our silhouettes; and that full radiance and romance of it all seemingly at our heart, so very sweet, so very warm.

Laugher, chases around the sand, finding shells. Combing the sand meticulously for little pieces of art, those tiny tiny perfectly-shaped unbroken shells to show to you. Gently, gently stroking the surface, blowing the fine sand off. Turning round joyously, saying in almost a half-whisper of awe and wonder, "look what I found". Heads huddled together, a gentle sea breeze ruffling our hair.

Reverently placing all the little treasure into a small hole you dug. Hands gently smoothing sand back into the hole, a little soft pat at the end of it all after some deliberation. Stretching back up, looking at the expanse of glittering golds, purples and reds that stretch out before us, the sun low in the sky, big, bold. Feeling a presence of warmth around my hand as your fingers closed round mine.

It feels like the sun will shine on us forever.