from Golden Rushes:

Zerron…From the top of the block he sees her before she sees him, on the step sitting looking up and around. The stars are nothing compared to those eyes that see them. This angel and his angel is a vision to see. Still anxious to get there he knows now he will and he slows down to enjoy the approach. Happiness sees no end in sight, even though…Well, it is far from his mind now. She sees him, he feels her smile and sends her his. He speeds up. Anxiousness pulls them together like a magnet. Her beauty increases with her nearness until he reaches her—stunning. As beautiful as she is to see, this angel was meant to be touched. He takes her hands as she stands as if they were going to dance.

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Yes, it has been too long.”

“What should we do?”

Still holding on, they are swinging each other’s hands as they talk to not let go. What are you thinking…Over a side glance and another smile their eyes twinkle in the stars above which give no answers, just look on in apprehensive joy. As they say, back over to you…

“I don’t know…”

“My friends…There’s a show or something…”

“Do you want to go?”

In silence or nervous they slow down and turn over each other’s hands and absently explore their fingers and knuckles and change grips. They are funny. Still shy with their thoughts, each wants to stay in alone with only the other for company and not go out. This would be the first time, who will admit it first…

“Let’s go in…For now. We can go out later.”

“All right.”

The stars twinkle an affirmation and in relief they swing their hands and let go and he follows Zerron up the step and past the door. The moon smiles, he is inside. The naughty inhabitants of the night have done it again. She leads him further, up the stairs and to her place. She turns on a light.

“This is the living room, a couch, over there’s the kitchen…Not much to see…Do you want to see it all?”

“Whatever you want…I’ll see it later.”

“Okay, through here…This is my room…”

The throne of her majesty. She opens the door and steps in and aside to let him step in. Her highness must not have any servants. The room is messy. She sort of blushes but does not apologize—this is the way that she is and she is becoming less shy about it. Always comfortable with herself alone, she is being made to feel comfortable with herself when not alone. It is the way that she is and the way that she is is pretty cool—she knew it, now someone else knows it too. He takes a few steps in and looks to and waits for her.

“Come in.”

She closes the door and crosses and sits on the bed. He reflects a moment—there is nowhere else to go. The stars cannot see him now but if they could…He abruptly goes and flops onto the bed on his back. He is as comfortable and ecstatic as a kid in a hill of leaves.

“Are you sure you like being around me? You’ve been around me a lot…I’m not used to people not getting tired of me.”

“I can’t imagine ever getting tired of you.”

This could not be more true. The hands on the clock could freeze and it could be an eternity until his next engagement and he would wait there with her and never tire. She has become the way that things should be. The voice of the guitarist, the hands for the piano.

They push themselves up to get more comfortable and on opposite sides of the bed, they dig their toes under each other warm and lay their hands on whatever is in reach—mostly feet and ankles and lower legs. The movements are natural. They tickle a little. They breathe and recline.

“Music?”

“Yes, always.”

She eases up, the bed rocks, and she crawls over him to get to the floor. He looks at her then crosses his arms behind his head and looks at the three walls he can see and into the half-open closet off the foot of the bed and looks at all of the things these things have and what it means to see them. At ease, he feels like a king. She puts on a song and stays standing until it starts.

“Here we go.”

“Hey…More dancing music. Will you dance for me?”

No, no, no. She blushes and turns away and tries to swing a little dance but it does not work and cutting it short, falls on the bed kind of on him in a shy embarrassed smile and hides her face in his shirt. Slowly, in no hurry, the blood rushes away and she returns to her usual lighter color. She shows her face again.

“I like this song…Listen…”

As she wishes they turn to hear, beside each other, with each other. In his lucky arms he holds her for himself. She still smiles but more serious and touches his cheek below his eye and brushes his eyebrow. She loses the smile.

“Listen…”

She giggles uncomfortably and digs her face into his shoulder and the scent of her hair enters his breath and he listens, she listens…The creek of the bed, the brush of the drape—they listen…The moon ticks into its new place, the stars shine across and past their midnight. With each crawl of the hour, sooner from the horizon will come light. The night above is ending, the night below is beginning…They dig their hold deeper and give a light kiss and settle again. Like an old tune that always was, their music sings…the song sings…in a short love long with memory, together alone they sing…they listen…

“Someday I think I’ll know…Those eyes I’ll want to know…Deeper than my own / Sometime I know I’ll know…Why I have been so alone…When lover comes, I know / I’ll move on to better things…Dreaming life and everything / Someday I think I’ll know…When I am loved alone”

What a song, what a love, what a feeling. They do not even wait for the song to end or for all of the words to sink in before its spirit takes them. They are kissing, they are caressing, they are enjoying each other beyond what a song can sing. As much as they like the park, no grassy lawn can compare with this. They are moving and changing positions and they settle in a new comfortable cuddle with its own special kiss. They like everything about each other too much. The shame of kissing is they cannot talk and the shame of talking is they cannot kiss. So lie and wait and let fate decide its turn. He kisses her forehead.