Opaque Distance
The evening has settled around me. The sky has become opaque, that deep blue
just before the fields of stars emerge. In the open sky between the trees, an
occasional bat can be glimpsed, flitting about, cleansing the air of unwanted
pests. There is a broken string of pearls now, across the sky to the
northeast. If I could only reach up and grasp it, I would take that special
gift to my sweetheart, kiss her skin in preparation and fasten it 'round
her neck. Often I imagine that neck beneath my lips, and her quivering
beneath my touch.
I recall a spooky, beautiful evening in Minnesota, a loon calling under the
Aurora Borealis undulating at Lake Hubert. I would exchange that magical
evening and all my other best memories before I knew her with nary a
backward glance, for one more moment with her.
I awake in the night, and recall one moment with her. She is cuddled up to
me, like a nesting bird, her porcelain skin stretching under my hand.
Chamber
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