...her first name on it. Carved on the tombstone was "Beautiful Loving Wife." I thought hard about her on the drive back and wondered if she could be the one. http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xrzfv_inxs-never-tear-us-apart_music
When I pulled into the driveway she was working in her garden. She looked up and brushed her hair aside with a muddy glove leaving a smudge of dirt on her forehead. She smiled. She handed me a basket of cucumbers. I handed her the chocolate she likes that I picked up as a surprise on the way back. She kissed me. Deep. Slow. Powerful. The kind of kiss that can etch itself in stone.
When she crawled toward me slowly with only her stockings on from the foot of the bed with that look, some old wall inside me crumbled. Her skin was cool and fresh. It was right. Images blurred. I closed my eyes. In the music we found a path. I was seeing us in my mind. Vertigo. I sensed our molecules had obliterated some impenetrable field. We merged. The nexus between our minds and matter gave way to cascading emotions and collapsing fear. I was falling. It was as if one soul in the distant past had been split and lost, but now had been reunited. "Is it the wine?" "Shut up, baby," she whispered to me right before her body tensed up, her back arched and she released her sweet breathy scream.
Walking into her kitchen the next morning before sunrise I could hear her making pancakes. We sat at the kitchen table and drank orange juice. We didn't say a word. She sat in her chair with both feet on the seat and bare knees up together next to her face. She rested her chin on her knees. Her eyebrows raised up and then down in some secret code. Her slight contented smile widened. I thought she was looking at me, but she was looking past me. I turned to see out her back porch window, a wall of mist pass across her big backyard like something in a dream. "I want this to really be happening to me," I thought to myself.
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