he placed ten kisses at the tips of her fingers, and he told her to save them for the forecasted rainy days.
she wept; he carried her into the bathroom, filled the tub, and not knowing whether it was bathwater or her tears, he wiped the water from her cheekbones; at midnight, they curled into each other and dreamt of sunny days.
she filled for them the tub again; through the speakers and over the sound of rain, she ran acoustic music and asked if she might learn about him; he told her about his mother and her laugh.
they danced with bare feet in the living room, knowing not a single word or the rhythm to the song the record played, but dancing still on each other’s toes.
they baked cookies and sang along to blaring rock and roll; she sat on the counter and, with the heels of her feet, pulled him up between her legs; she whispered “i love you,” and, loud enough for the world to hear, he said, ”i love you too.”
he said let’s paint, and with colors smeared between their fingers, they tackled each other to the carpeted floor, covering themselves in yellows and greens; from his body to hers the colors blended; one was trees stretching towards the other, who was the sun; while one shone bright, the other grew, and never did they know who was who, until together, they reached the sky and realized that, as two, they were one.
their love was evidenced in turns of phrase that meant forever, and upon forever, they began their lives.