Long Shadows

The motion rolled under them like towers of water in a landless sea. It was huge and limitless. An Earth rhythm. It tore away from the tides of the moon.

A furnace of kisses merged and melted, and molten rivers surged. The dying wisps of their separateness clung above the rising fire.

Their desperation clawed, bending the two orbits, until finally, a celestial collision consumed them. The screaming heavens twisted their bodies out of existence, and gravity released them into the brilliance of creation.

And for a few moments, there they floated. In the stillness, their breaths walked together in the dark.

Then, one of them slowed. It didn't matter which. The strides became different and distinct. He felt her breasts swelling against his chest, and the weight of him threaten to cage her.

They slid apart, still touching, still trying to hold the connection, but a curtain of cold winter air reminded them they were small.

He perched over her on one elbow and smiled. She smiled in return, but it was small and fleeting.

As her salvation bled away, all she could think about was how one day he would fall beyond her reach and she would pin contentment around her body like a shroud. One day the sun would set, and from that moment onward, only the weight of his shadow would lie over her.

(Picture: Laurel Hill Cemetery, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)