She turned my palm over and gently pushed my fingers back, our silhouettes slowly sinking into shadow. We watched the last of evening rays waltz into the night, and I felt the rhythm of her breath as if it were my own. Her fingers intertwined in mine, and I knew emptiness. We were stardust, and we fabricated meaning through time and space.
I hadn't believed in love. I hadn't danced under warm water droplets, hadn't painted purple sunsets or silver skies. Now, I felt like twirling in autumn song, like composing serenades by candlelight. In her eyes, I found galaxies, felt constellations; in her heart, I found wholeness, felt life—
That night, I brought her flowers and a letter. We shared silence because she already knew everything I had come to say. I thought about waning moons and worlds without her, and I felt lost. Still, she knew we had to find ourselves.
Touching clouds, I now sing and spin across poppy fields. I jump into puddles of my own reflection, and I free my breath to the wind of the world because I exist. I am a melody, and my pulse harmonizes with the blessings of the earth. Now, I am the depths of the ocean and the sovereignty of sky. I feel rivers in my veins and a forest in my soul, and there is an adventure in the discovery of me as I learn, as I love, and as I learn to love.
