Ourselves in Eden
The in between moments are the most surreal. Proof that paradox isn't limited to the abstract. Like how I knew I'd make it, but never thought I 'd see the day. Her beauty is, well, if I told you, you'd call it a cliche, and you'd be right but I assure you she wears it well. Blonde hair, pouty lips and blue eyes. Her voice is smoky and low like campfires at dusk.
It isn't long before we're a tangle of limbs. White cotton sheets carve across her features like marble. Everything is wet and heat and a strength I have never known before. Kisses like chemical reactions change the substance of space and time. Her eyes are golden now. My skin is living fire. Her lungs breath for me, my heart beats for her. We push ourselves. Push until we are all the way in. We are one thing, a principle unity, the philosopher's stone
Some hours later I'm packing the only bag I'll ever need into the back of her 86 Caprice. I climb behind the wheel, and she saddles up up next to me. One hand on my thigh, she presses soft lips into my ears, "I know a short cut." The key is in the ignition so I turn it.
The engine rumbles to life
and we find
ourselves in Eden.