Some moments should be indelible. I want to pick them. Here: nursing June on an empty beach, on a smooth cool sheet, from a swollen breast that I was just complaining about not fitting into a new swimsuit. Whispy curls of her baby hair trembling, watching her face fall from tense to sleepy to achingly still. The sound of the girls splashing in the distance, playing like children ignoring that they are growing out of childhood. This is where i want to live.