The someone who runs away with me. Who sees past the fog on societal windows, who goes limp at the hard on for all the extra fluffy wrappings. Someone who stops for no one, who goes and doesn't look back. We build a cabin out of sticks and make love by the rivers edge. I keep playing with the idea of saying eh, let me run west until my legs give out. Find a place to lay my head and meet you somewhere at dusk. The someone who runs away with me. We need nothing but fire in our bellies and creatures by our feet. The rest of the world keeps talking about buyers markets, and cars with trimmings, like presents tied in a perfect bow. The someone who runs away with me. Do you like your coffee black? Kisses sweet? Like manuka honey and Jasmine all over my body, all over your body. The someone who runs away with me. We throw these phones over some bridge. And kiss the stars with our eyes. Knowing we haven't the time to waste, but we have all the time in the world. They can keep their trimmings. I have you and the Earth.