Pack your bags, your old battered trunk, and wait for me by the side of the road in your red beret. We'll go away, anywhere, disappearing into the haze of heat rippling into the horizon, a couple of dreamers with no direction and active imaginations to match. We'll curl up together in cheap motels and complain about terrible food; we'll take the long road, explore antique shops and stop wherever we want, snapping photographs on old film cameras.
It doesn't matter that we don't know each other very well, or that we've exchanged more glances than words. I want to walk the forgotten places of the world with you, and trace my finger along the length of your arm as we lay among tall grass, the crickets the only orchestra we know. We shall learn each other as we learn the country, the sky and the stars; we shall learn each other as we learn ourselves. You only need say yes.