Timescape 2/9/04
The sun was in my eyes. I squinted, trying to lose focus. I could feel your cheek pressed against mine, the way your breath whispered against my neck. You were silent, respecting my loss.

Birds were moving in the trees, chirping softly. A breeze was catching the tall grasses of June and dipping them like a dance partner. I tried to hold these images as my only thoughts, but your hand started to gently rub my shoulder. I stood still, stock-still. Tense and breathless. A crick was inching down my neck and along my shoulders, replacing the ache I was ignoring. (My body, the opposite of your languid ease. )

You took a step closer, pressing your chest against mine, pulling me tighter, gently stroking my hair. My eyes flew around the scenery, a swimmer looking for a life raft, and began to fill with tears. The air was a fist closing around my throat. My shoulders shuddered, my head leaned into your shoulder, my eyes closed, and a painful sound escaped my lips. I could hear the swish of branches and a few surprised chirps as birds flew away from the sound.

When I next opened my eyes, we had tilted and swayed into the grasses, sliding toward the ground from the weight of my tears. You were stroking my eyebrows, my cheek. The buttons on your shirt were aqua blue. The grasses arced over us like a dome, veiling the future and the past, and shading us from the sun as your warm lips found mine.