Part Fourteen

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Not the name on the grave, no. But their hands poised so near in the dew, and his forehead spritzed with perspiration.

They surveyed the blue-black infinity, and for their diligence they were rewarded-- two stars fell.

He knew one star plummeted symbolizing her heart, and the other cannoned for his.

Then, the meteor shower.

They were the center of it all, this splintering of Heaven, and in the flashing light of the cosmos-- they found awe.

He put his twitching fingers on hers. He squeezed, and a titan tear from God swallowed their hands-- the dewdrop between them.

Her skin, bluish in the night, quaked.

In answer, goosebumps ran up his arm.

He felt a thief.

She vaulted into the air. He surged to join her. Their bodies silhouetted in the rhapsody of color.

She hovered, poised. He floated, crooked. Their lips, parted.

The awkward pause extended beyond reason.

She retreated, and giggled--

The cascade faded. The meteors vaporized.

"Goodbye," she said.

He hung in mid-air, alone.

And now he was ready to die. He surrendered to the present. He looked her in the eyes. He wondered if, someday, someone would be brave enough to give her bad poetry.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

She wept.

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