They Lay entwined, their bodies
Clasped fingers, chests rising and falling
Gently forgetting ends and beginnings

The window rested wide, open fell
Moon light, stars simply reflecting
Playfully pulling at her wandering eyes

“What are we?” She drew slightly away

eruptions of cosmic dust
danced beneath her skin
and falling glass made
music between her dreams;
she pictured galaxies of
dying candles and fresh
colors unfamiliar to her bones;
tea cups of sun drenched
dirt and seeds of cobalt
cloth wrapped her feet
and tied her to her thoughts;
everything faded away
and nothing soon emerged

“What are we?” she repeated, more slowly
running, her fingers down his arm

He buried his response into her side,
One word escaped—“falling”