when are you ever not with me? i feel of you always in an open space on the left side of my heart. i walk through concrete jungles longing to feel your sand in my toes. i spy structures called homes that glare at me like a stranger daring me to be at home; and i long to feel your share of the trade-winds tickle the back of my legs as sweat glides down my arms. in a space consumed with excess and death, speed and shiny trash, your simplicity quickens the beat of my heart; and i yearn for the little things, like the taste of your salt in the air.