The snow fell outside the open windows, and the rooms were cold.
You and I wandered back and forth between doorways, draped in bedsheets, wrapped thin around our forms and dragging out behind us. The hardwood floors were like an ocean, stretching from white wall to white wall, empty and clean and cold.
You were the first one to speak and you told me we would never leave.
The ceilings were high and full of rafters. You could hear the forest pressing in from beyond.
I spoke a dream of getting lost in that forest, running, with our sheets like capes or the robes of kings, flying behind us as we ran barefoot through the trees.
Our toes would turn blue, but we would be gone.
I never saw the drip of my blood on that snow, an arm torn, pushing through brambles; just the coldness of headlights as we pulled out past the gateposts, enveloped by dusk.
As night fell on country roads, the moon bright amidst the swirling snow, I sang lullabies for the king who slept in the drifts.
And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly
From the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea