The ballad of the jester and the moon
Her face was that of the moon and accompanied by the jester, they sought an oasis. They scoured high and low in the dry desert, only managing to uncover the remains of brittle bones and skeletons of saguaros amongst the shrubs and rocky sand. At night, the stars were accompanied by the shrill howls of coyotes and the shadows from the meek night would create myths in the dark. Under the hot heat they would take refuge in nearby hills and crags hoping to find some small pool of water here or there, that had found a way to endure the summer sun. Climbing the dry rocky slopes they would gain hope and imagine their own oasis’s resting on the other side. Deep pools of water as blue as the sky, palm trees with comfortable shades to sit under and a calm yet refreshing breeze to forget about the relentless attack of the sun. The moon, with her fleshy red lips and dreamy stare into the skies, would be so caught up in her thoughts as she climbed that she would often stumble. Too clumsy for this world they said ( well at least too absent minded).
The jester, more aware of his surroundings, would hold her right arm with every doubting step she took, guiding her along hidden paths. She, in return, would play muse to his mind and help him to see the beauty before him, hidden in the shiny leaflets of the creosotes and the shadeless mesquite trees. Every so often the moon would turn her bright face to the jester and ask in a pleading voice "do you suppose we are close?" to which he would always reply without fail, while he squeezed her tiny hand in between his "yes, indeed, we have walked along way, we should be very close". Somehow despite both knowing that distance wasn’t a factor, she would find herself reassured and a few minutes later when the jester would ask this very same question the moon gave him the very same answer.
This little game sustained them. In their previous lives it only caused them stress, as it made others uncomfortable and gave them a sense that they didn't belong anywhere. Now it gave them the courage to continue, from listening to the security and trust in their companion's voice. It was through this game that they found each other, that they decided to abandon their daily routine to pursue the search of an oasis for themselves.
Occasionally on one of the cliffs they had climbed they would spot a waterhole and make believe it was an oasis. No more than a mirage designed to fool them on false pretenses. The waters in the pools were not clean enough, the shade from the palms brought no relief from the searing sun, or they found the skeletons of other wary travelers who couldn't see the trap in the illusion on time. So they kept walking, aimlessly, (as they had always done) but with the unbreakable certainty that sooner or later they would find the perfect place to sit down.
Excitedly the pair scurry up yet another solitary mountain, isolated by miles of dry desert on all sides. “This must be it. It has to be.” The moon declares. Stumbling in her excitement, she relies on the jester’s sturdy hand to prevent her from a mighty fall. The rocks gleam, reflected by her round face, and aid in their slow climb to the ridge of yet another mountain. The top, barren as the last, leaves them in despair with a sight of nothing but a few scattered mucky puddles that once might have been sources of water. Now it is the jester's turn to motivate the moon. He stays behind a foot or two and then pulls on her arm towards him, she falls back as he catches her and squeezes her back against his chest, his arms go around her waist as their bodies meet, a smile paints on his face as her hands caress his with a soft gentle touch; then he kisses the back of her neck softly. Frolicking below the stars they take off each other's shoes and socks and walk along slipping their feet into the few small mucky ponds they find on their way. Lying beside the inch deep water they embrace slowly and lock in a passionate kiss; playfully the moon flips the jester from on top of her so he is lying in the inch deep water with her above him. Coyly she slips her feet between his rubbing them slowly against the bottoms of his bare feet as she puts one hand on his heart and feels his heartbeat going faster as she slides her body playfully over his. The accelerated heartbeat, as she knows well, is just the first sign of his desire for her; she lets him feel her curvy body as she gently and playfully rubs against his chest, then she moves back and presses her hand harder over his heart to feel it speeding uncontrollably as his hands seek for her body, but she moves back, letting him know she is in control for the time being.
The jester, more aware of his surroundings, would hold her right arm with every doubting step she took, guiding her along hidden paths. She, in return, would play muse to his mind and help him to see the beauty before him, hidden in the shiny leaflets of the creosotes and the shadeless mesquite trees. Every so often the moon would turn her bright face to the jester and ask in a pleading voice "do you suppose we are close?" to which he would always reply without fail, while he squeezed her tiny hand in between his "yes, indeed, we have walked along way, we should be very close". Somehow despite both knowing that distance wasn’t a factor, she would find herself reassured and a few minutes later when the jester would ask this very same question the moon gave him the very same answer.
This little game sustained them. In their previous lives it only caused them stress, as it made others uncomfortable and gave them a sense that they didn't belong anywhere. Now it gave them the courage to continue, from listening to the security and trust in their companion's voice. It was through this game that they found each other, that they decided to abandon their daily routine to pursue the search of an oasis for themselves.
Occasionally on one of the cliffs they had climbed they would spot a waterhole and make believe it was an oasis. No more than a mirage designed to fool them on false pretenses. The waters in the pools were not clean enough, the shade from the palms brought no relief from the searing sun, or they found the skeletons of other wary travelers who couldn't see the trap in the illusion on time. So they kept walking, aimlessly, (as they had always done) but with the unbreakable certainty that sooner or later they would find the perfect place to sit down.
Excitedly the pair scurry up yet another solitary mountain, isolated by miles of dry desert on all sides. “This must be it. It has to be.” The moon declares. Stumbling in her excitement, she relies on the jester’s sturdy hand to prevent her from a mighty fall. The rocks gleam, reflected by her round face, and aid in their slow climb to the ridge of yet another mountain. The top, barren as the last, leaves them in despair with a sight of nothing but a few scattered mucky puddles that once might have been sources of water. Now it is the jester's turn to motivate the moon. He stays behind a foot or two and then pulls on her arm towards him, she falls back as he catches her and squeezes her back against his chest, his arms go around her waist as their bodies meet, a smile paints on his face as her hands caress his with a soft gentle touch; then he kisses the back of her neck softly. Frolicking below the stars they take off each other's shoes and socks and walk along slipping their feet into the few small mucky ponds they find on their way. Lying beside the inch deep water they embrace slowly and lock in a passionate kiss; playfully the moon flips the jester from on top of her so he is lying in the inch deep water with her above him. Coyly she slips her feet between his rubbing them slowly against the bottoms of his bare feet as she puts one hand on his heart and feels his heartbeat going faster as she slides her body playfully over his. The accelerated heartbeat, as she knows well, is just the first sign of his desire for her; she lets him feel her curvy body as she gently and playfully rubs against his chest, then she moves back and presses her hand harder over his heart to feel it speeding uncontrollably as his hands seek for her body, but she moves back, letting him know she is in control for the time being.