Though then they are sure to be covered by fur and leathered skin, my long muscles will construct your house and I will live just down the road. We can sell our cars and buy old bicycles to ride to each other's houses. During the big storms I will stay at your house. Neither one of us will know who is comforting whom. I'll cut my hair off once every year, but always keep a big beard. I'll play guitar when you're sick and you can smooth the kinks in my hair when I fall asleep.

We'll buy raw, rich coffee once a month from a boy on a bicycle who sells different odds and ends. One time, I buy you a bracelet. Another time, a polka-dotted skirt.

Sometimes, without storms at all, you or I might find the other in each other's bed. When this happens, I pull you close to feel the softness of your body and breathe in deep. Naked and warm, we'll lie prostrate in gratitude to whomever's design our lives belong.