Heaven

Heaven = Waking up when you feel like it on a Saturday morning and lying there looking at your best friend in the world, thinking that he is even more attractive to you than he was 29 years ago. He opens his eyes and you lie there entwined and talking about anything until someone thinks of pumpkin-pecan Belgian waffles. The slow, familiar kitchen dance commences--spooning at the sink, brushing hips as we turn from stove to fridge, a silent smile passing between us. Waffles that taste as good as they sound, Mason Jennings singing love songs in the background. Does it even matter what we do for the rest of the weekend?