She steps forward, toes first, avoiding twigs
and crunchy yellow leaves. I follow just behind her,
smiling at her delicate excitement. We pass the
last of the trees to the cliff’s start and the beauty
is ours. Across a low, wide valley the expansive,
glowing hills are ours to behold and revel in. The
trees blanketing the hills toss sparks and the light
emanating from them illuminate her face, the stars
in the hills reflect in her dark eyes. My adoration
for her swells. I will protect this moment for as
long as I will live and longer. If heaven exists, this
will be mine. She and I here, watching the flaming
stars dance in the hills across the valley. I bring her
hand to my lips and linger softly. She brings herself
closer and our hands gravitate down. We drink and
gulp in the other’s eyes, nose, mouth, and I love her
dark freckles and the tiny scar on her chin when she
tripped off of my skateboard in eighth grade.
When I close my eyes, I can still see the
warmth of the hills to the side. When our lips meet,
I no longer need that warmth, for I have her. When
we come together for those few seconds, I can feel
the stars are in us, for each other. When we draw
back and open our eyes, we find one another in a
new light. A kind, passionate light.
We are the stars we came to find.
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