Under this roof, we can be as loud as we want.
So we make the most of every minute.
Ten days worth of minutes.
Couch. Shower. Garden. Hot tub. Garden again.
Even in the back of the truck.
Our appetite can’t be tamed.
We barely pause for food or ocean dips, sometimes making it part of the fun.
Porter devours my body as if it’s his dessert.
New Year's Eve comes and goes.
We watch the sunrise together, hand in hand.
Both of us are doing our best to ignore the sand that slips through the hourglass.
January fifth looms.
Neither of us want to lose this precious moment.
This bubble away from the world we know.
Not just the way we crave each other.
Not just the earth shattering heights we’ve reached when we fuck.
It’s the way Porter holds me in the early hours after dawn.
The way he looks at me across a crowded farmer’s market.
The way he kisses me on the cheek as we stand in line for gelato.
For once, he doesn’t give a damn who sees us.
I’ll also miss the hours of intimate conversation we’ve clocked.
Laying entangled on a grassy verge in Alexandria.
Making out on a carpeted staircase halfway to the bedroom.
This time with Porter has been magical.
So I try to make the most of it before he disappears again.
I know it will happen.
And sadly, I’m right.
???
Before our drive south, I mail another letter out west.
Can’t wait to tell Mum about the beach.
