She props herself up on one elbow hair falls mischievous
lengths suddenly illuminated its colour wheat before gleaning the afternoon
light he smiles she laughs poured out in the defiantly green december grass she
is all bare feet and a navy blue patterned dress even as the wind like an
escaped giggle tumbles out and over and shaking the grass he can hear material
pull over the her pale limbs she’s staring at him and he thinks for a moment
she might keep the seasons at bay by ferocity of her smile and her dancing eyes
reflecting blues and greens clouds only move when they are looking at them and
he rambles words a sieve then her voice
ringing out all hammered yellow gold here he cannot remember if he laid down or
if he fell she asks him if all the world is only what he can see he cannot
answer or figure out what she is doing here her head now on his chest listening
hidden heartbeats not so far off there is the noise the indifferent churning
highway that he was sure that would never come to grips with the truth that
there was no such thing as time he feels suddenly shorn the light like a prayer
and while he knows in that moment that he will never understand her or how in
her aura everything even him seems to pulse with tidal waves of resistance or even
why she was laying there beside him in this space between seasons he thinks
perhaps the only great mystery might be why there was no mystery to it at
all.
