Romance

A look passes between them: something more rich in meaning than 1000 well chosen words

Sunlight dances off her waxy silver hands

He lifts the edges of four delicate fingers to his lips and breathes in her soft, earthy heat,

Which lately seems cooler, lighter, further away

This is another page in the story they have been writing

For over fifty years

They both have the sense that soon comes the final chapter

And neither can imagine – having arrived thus – a better plot, more complex characters, more tempting adventures and discoveries, or more singularly poetic moments

The sun is setting in the West

Their gazes turn to the horizon and follow the gleaming body down

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