Threading my fingers through your hair. The warmth of your scalp, like sun-warmed metal, glows against my fingertips. Words, words spoken, words written, scatter from this central point, dissolving. They spin slowly away. Even desire stops pulling. There's only light.
Suddenly I'm walking alone in a wide place. The smell and sound of the sea, just out of sight. I'm not sure what door I've gone through. I'm a girl walking in the wind. Not really alone. A hint of the future shimmers somewhere. Also out of sight.
I kiss the corners of your eyes. For a moment everything fits together. The smell of you, the smell of the sea, your breath on my face, the wind off the headland. The taste of salt on my lips.
I climb over the crest, and down below is the endless wrinkled sea, flecked with grains of pollen from the blossoming sun. The wind threads its fingers through my hair. Kiss me. Kiss me, again.