Holy moonlight memoirs

The two sat, perched on the grass of his front lawn, the still air of the night had instilled a sense of a special occasion, their words echoed off the stars while the moon shone it's holy light across their eyes; locked to one-another. No, the relevance of whatever past they had, whatever future they may have thought lined up for them at that time didn't matter at all anymore, their sentences tumbled out of their mouthes and caught each other as if soft butterflys would land on each other ears with every word they spoke. They thought each to their own and they said to each other how time was always at one point, how this moment would never end, they would peruse the outer limits of philosphy in hopes of discovering a way to sit there in the holy moonlight for-ever. Together they were scientists, philosopohers, mathematicians, rebels and lovers in their struggle for their infinite moment of euphoria, they would have felt fear at the eventual loss of their night, had they not been so intwined in each other. Unbeknownst to them though, they were right, time is a singular moment and if they were so much as to turn their necks but the slightest, to break sight of one another; they might have seen into their future, or into their past. 

But they didn't. He stood looking in at that night from the future, wondering why he never peered over his shoulder to see what would become of them, to not want to open his pandora's box of knowledge in the hopes of saving his heart and mind from what he now accepted as the inevitable break-down. He looked only behind him staring constantly at his, hers, their past, because it would be the small moments they shared together that would play in his mind. On the road trip to interstate, when she sat leaned against the window, landscape flushing by her beautiful face, why wouldn't he just lean over and kiss her on the cheek? Nights in bed while he lay comfortable and she lay distressed, why did he never ask what was wrong?  If, in that holy moonlight night he might have looked over his shoulder into the future, he would have seen himself looking back every day.

But she, she didn't look back. She lay in their past looking up at the sky and into their future, at that holy moonlight night where she would finally get to see him again, peering into her mortal distance, wanting to imagine every fine detail of every moment they would spend together, it was almost more joyful in itself to imagine him as it was to be around him. She would see endless nights spent in bed together, combing each others minds and bodies with such fine detail and she would know that every embarrassing childhood memory and every mole, freckle and bodily imperfection would draw them together, closer than any other two before them. They would be pioneers of each other and love itself. 

And on that holy moonlight night, when they first kissed, they would swear to each other they saw themselves peering in from over their shoulders, they would swear they saw themselves smiling.

11-aug-10

J