I see you reading a book bundled up, sipping on hot cocoa or coffee as snow softly falls outside. My writing desk is next to your easel in the study. The dog laying on the floor at your feet. It's peaceful. Serene.
Where am I?
A fire faintly crackles in the den. You shift slightly, you look at the clock on the wall then get up to refill your mug.
Where am I?
Am I outside cutting wood? Am I in town getting supplies? Am I at work?
All I know is wherever I am, I miss you. Do you miss me too? When you read your books? When you paint your pictures?
Maybe I can't see me because I need you to. Our visions need to intertwine to be real. What do you see?
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