8. A Man for All Time

A storm was shaking the Woods outside the hut. I heard the rain tapping on the roof like frightened fingers of fear squeezed through choking clouds, plunging to their doom, searching for a place to call their own. But the tiny gasps of nature's tears was but a distant whisper, for we were protected in the warmth of the fire's amber glow as I lay awake in our bed, watching Maya sweetly sleeping. The firelight gently danced along her naked body, tenderly caressing her. A tear of joy dripped from my cheek and rested upon her lips. She opened her eyes, and smiling, pulled me down towards her.

When the sunlight first crept through the curtained windows we were still languishing in the glow of our entangled desires. I drifted in and out of a joyous bliss of consciousness and dreams, and between the two, I watched Maya arise and cross the room to stand before the mirror. She stared at herself in awe as she brushed the long auburn hair that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. She turned to face me with a smile that melted my soul in joyous reprise.

"I can't believe how beautiful you've made me," she sighed, almost laughing as she walked towards me and her hair fluttered behind her like angels' wings.

"I..." I stuttered as she kissed me and slipped beside me. "I'm sorry, is this not as you've always been?"

Maya blushed and looked away. "Well," she sighed, sadly this time. "I..." Tears gently flowed down her cheek and, leaning forward, I brought her face close to mine and kissed her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered softly. "I don't remember what I looked like...before," she admitted.

The clairvoyant clarity I had felt the night before had faded in the new day's light. I could only see glimpses that disappeared as I strained to reach them with my mind.

"Who am I?" I whispered, suddenly frightened and afraid, for I realized I had no idea of the answer to such a simple question. My head was swimming in confusion, and it ached to think at all.

Maya placed my head against her breast and rubbed my hair gently. But the pain was too much. I couldn't feel her fingers at all. I tried in vain to speak, but only blood-stained whispers leaked from my lungs:

"Wipe away the pain, and make it right.

I am lost insane inside the crippled light."


©: 1992-2015 Robert Alan Silverstein

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