memoir/free write

Summer Skin

“For every shadow, no matter how deep is threatened by morning light.” - The Fountain

We were the only two people awake in the world. The floor was rough and uncomfortable, but I refused to care. I was tangled in blankets and your arms, and we said nothing. There was no time; hours and minutes blended together, and we pretended it was true. Somewhere, playing softly and breaking the pact between silence and early morning, the song kept skipping. When we both felt my tear slide between our cheeks as you kissed me, I think you understood.

You gathered me up in your arms, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, and you treated me like a figure of paper-thin glass. Never had I felt that small in front of you, so fragile.

Outside, in the middle of the front lawn, you pulled me to the ground. The grass replaced the basement floor and the ceiling had been ripped back, exposing the sky. Somehow you knew I’d been begging to see the stars. If only my hand stretched just a little farther, maybe I could touch them, let them slip from my hand, and scatter overhead. It would be heaven’s rain. The reality was, this moment was like a torn photo where the world seemed to end at my fingertips. And maybe it did.