Strawberry Fields Whenever

This world is one of strawberry fields in the sunlight, of sheer liquid happiness shooting from the earth, of laying deep in fields of yellow flowers that are taller than my head, of late night diners and dance parties, of sweet hellos and sad goodbyes, afternoons of poetry and naked sunbathing on the roof, of heat shimmering in the morning air and of jam jars filled with coffee; too hot to hold in my naked hand. This world is one of hot dark silence and of constant music, of violin under the stars, of swapping clothes and stealing wine with strangers in the street, of cycling to the beach in the middle of the night with the wind in my soul. Of madness, of gladness, of badness, of sadness, of reckless abandon and of careful consideration, of raccoon babies and white butterflies in cornflower sky, of chalking thoughts into buildings and carving words into skin, of puppy dog kisses and drawing our dreams onto the pavement.