The night crept in on an afterthought, as if it too had been enjoying the summer evening. Without permission, it ensnared our little town, trailing first through the sky, leaving bruised blue hues in its wake.
I could feel the warning in the air as the wind swept across the plains, struggling to be faster than the impenetrable shade sweeping over the world. We lay among the tall wheat stalks and our words must have run away with the wind for we were still and silent. We watched as the pseudo night of shadows was met by the night of the stars and the two melted together until they were one blackness.
I lifted my hand into the air and I could feel the deep pulse of the night like I could feel your heart beat in rhythm with mine. It coaxed me with a gentle nudge, an innocent beckon to come and play. I tugged my hand back, but my fingers were reluctant to say goodbye, nearly giving in to the dark temptations that lurked in the moist air born in the space sunlight used to live. Tumultuous clouds greedily ate away at the stars, sucking the few remaining lights in the world up in its bulging mass. I gasped as the last twinkle was smothered and I could no longer distinguish the sky from the night it blanketed. It was the end. If the stars had no strength to hold on to the sky, then what strength did I have to hold on to you?
It’s only you and I here now, with our words run so far away we can’t hear their echo and no meaning to search for in the pattern of the stars. There’s no promise from the night that it will relinquish its reign to the sun of a new day. There’s no light to remind us of the vows we’ve broken. I think the sun and the moon must have designed us this gift, because a miracle of the heavens it is, that we can be here together without apologies or explanation, without words to dig us deeper.

As a last trickle of lagging breeze makes its escape, the clouds are kind enough to part to show me a single star strong enough to shine through the approaching storm.

It’s a gift, don’t you think?