2:46

The smell of incense and rain. A chorus of echoes, some laughing, some crying. Dark tears, like oil. Minds, connected by threads. Minds make love, connected by threads. Threads, invisible and warm, vibrating. Threads of trust.

The moon is full. Her face glows through branches.

When I woke in fear, did you feel it too? A burning itch digs under my skin, concentrating on knuckles and ankles. Beating, itching drums on the soles of my feet. I sweat, and throw off blankets. The sweat cools quickly; I shiver. A cat cries to come inside; I walk downstairs and open the back door. She thanks me and runs in. The wind enters my house and wraps her arms around me. She whispers a song in each ear. Wind, sent to me by the moon. The moon, full, on the warmest night of the year, so far. My lover breathes her tongue into my throat. Her hands reach into my lungs, into my bloodstream, into my heart. I dream of dreams. Take these dreams, my moon, my muse. Please, take them.

You: planet. Your mind: atmosphere. I will make her writhe. Yes, I will show her drunk, and cobalt eyes, and smallmouth bass. At 2:46 A.M.