The Beach

In my head all I see is a thick rolling beach.  It goes on for eons, kites in th sky, sandcastles on the ground, the smell of the sea in the air.  It is perfection, and it is all I have ever wanted.
I feel hands grasp mine, and bring up my eyes to the face I’ve been in love with for the past few years.  
He stares at me, and I stare back, and we both smile as the man below the arch starts, “We are gathered here today…”
Later that night it is just he and I on the beach.
The sun has turned blood red across the belt of the sea, cascading to indigo darkness and a peppering of the stars.
We try to talk.  But questions fail us.  Affectionate words flee.  We instead stand side by side in a natural trust so profound we are content in our silence.
When the sky is engulfed in moonlight we grab the lamp on the side, light the wick, and hold onto it for a few moments.  The flames flicker in his eyes, and with the light in our hands we realize it holds everything.
The past, our present, and, as it is released into the curtain of constellations, our future.
I watch it until I can’t see it anymore.
All I hear are the waves.
All I see is the future.
And all I feel is the beach.