**** body, loosely wrapped in a lime green towel which, I'm sure, makes the paleness of my skin downright floresce in the warm, bright sunlight pouring too generously through the picture window.
A mound of life rises like the moon, casting a glow all the way to my face.
On a Saturday. One in which we are currently running quite late now for a wedding.
Contrast:
Against the softness of the sun, a backlight glows with harshly lit updates from hundreds of people who, to be honest, I keep up with to be kept up with and I suppose that makes the glare harsher.
My hands curl softly around the glare, thumbing gently through this distraction in an effort to abate the sweltering heat of late April in the WV mountains.
It rests softly on my rising moon, the source of this precious glow far outshining the scene around me, although the burst of glorious sunlight coming would prove me wrong again.
Then it happened.
On a random Saturday morning. We happen to be closing in on being too late for the wedding.
And my hand jumps.
He kicked me.
And you ran to me.
And we watched in wonder this life we made, this man in the moon, being everything but still, until we ran out, still dressing as we frantically raced our way to the wedding