Under a Setting Sun

A sallow-looking sun braced itself for a steady descent toward the infinite south to it’s hiding place on the other end of the world. Under the sweetness of this pale-pink drop in the sky, we sauntered sheepishly down a weaving paved trail. On it’s borders grew expanses of trees that swayed blissfully in moderation with the mood of it’s travelers. Down this road we ambled, her delicate hand in mine.
My hand had a coarse and calloused feel, a symptom of such weathered abuse. Despite it’s roughness, her hand gripped mine perfectly, fitting genuinely into the groove of my own and bleeding with it’s feel, a compassion that had never been seen before in such a hard textured hand. My fingers danced gently on the tips of hers as we traded small nervous smiles and glanced longingly at the hues about the stratosphere. She returned in my hand a gentle caress. Her thumb running softly across the back of mine igniting in me a prickling passion and I felt in that moment an extreme safeness. I turned, meeting her eyes. The beauty that erupted from each one of her warm gazes was ineffable, a sprouting of illustrious and fantastic spectacle that could only bow me. With the meet of her eyes a great prescense arose in my chest and in the deepest portion of my brain I could hear the soft shadowing of a rising arrangement of chords.
Within me burst an impetuous passion and I abruptly halted our pace and reached out for her other hand. When both were securely held, she leaned in, slightly standing on her tiptoes. And as if she had been viewing the feelings inside me, the space between us collapsed and we collided, like clouds, in a kiss.

Under a Setting Sun

fightholden

Mokena, United States

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