i find myself at the beach in the small hours of the morning. the waves lap limply at my feet. the princess is three feet behind me in her tory burches, and even then adamant about keeping them on. well, its her loss. we walk and sing lyrics distorted by memory and other random snatches of old songs. the palm tress in the distance are two dimensional silhouettes - a static undeveloped shade of itself in the darkness. i remember being in indonesia looking back on our island and thinking, godd we're so bright we blot out the stars. it doesn't feel so much like that when you're standing right in the middle of it. i guess that's just it though, perspective. we don't say much and just continue walking. the sky behind us back lit by the city lights.
