Friday Lovepoem

We're lying down,
two naked, shameless bodies,
pressed to each other
like nectar-filled petals.

I turn around and grab
the nearest magazine on the nightstand,
flipping the pages.

"The honeymoon
will be
a week in Santorini, the island
of blue and white."

I mockingly say.
There's no wedding and
we'd never afford it.

"And then a week
in South Africa, I've never
seen the wildlife before.
I want to watch the elephants
mate."

I laugh.

"A few days in
this city. Look how gorgeous
the streets are.
Actually two weeks here
will barely be enough."

"Will just roadtrip here."

"Oh, and Paris, of course."

You smile as
you play with my hair,
imagining me the whole time
walking through
the aisle to you.