He carved her bones out of the soft spots of time and the fires of eternity and cooled and smoothed them in the rivers that ran down from the mountains where the old gods were rumored to have gone mad and fallen asleep beyond the knowledge and prayers of all things that breathed and lived and loved and hoped
He started with the caves that would form the pools in which her eyes would sleep and dream and wonder and then shaped her skull around them leaving out no detail or necessity making each curve and line as important as the last
With her head complete he moved to each bone that would be her spine with the same delicate care for perfection and from her spine he then formed her ribs making sure to reinforce each one yet leave them flexible as it would be their function to protect her heart and give it room to bloom and grow
He formed a bone of intricate nature in the center and front of her for the ribs to attach themselves to and placed two bones along her collar and blades on the left and right of her back from which her arms would sway and swing and hold things close
and then moved down and began to chisel out the hills and arcs of her hips where her legs would hang and twirl and spin and then chipped away at time and eternity to fashion every tiny bone of her feet on which she would walk and run and leap and dance upon
With the rest of her bones complete he began to tenderly shape and cut and sculpt each bone in her hand making sure they would be pliable and limber with a touch of delicacy and strength for with her hands she would weave dreams and life and love
With the last of her fingertips carved and cooled and smoothed and pulled from the river he laid her bones out carefully one by one on a blanket that he had stolen from the robes of death from the time before gods and men and stars and trees and language the time that only spirits and animals moved through the velvet indigo of the night sky and prowled the cosmos alone to their own songs and laws
He pulled thread from light not yet born and the black from shadows yet to be cast and twisted them together and slowly began to pull her bones into place and braid and twine her flesh and skin and hair and eyes and as her body and shape were completed he started to weave and sculpt and form her heart with the most urgent of care and within he hid the secrets of colors to be unseen and an endless spool of fire and silk and blood and the importance of kindness and compassion
With the last stitch pulled through and tied and knotted and cut he had worked himself down to nothing more than a grain of sand and dust and wind and he smiled a tired and worn and complete smile
She was the envy and birth of beauty and the jealousy and creation of desire and the first of all dreams and things to come
With her flesh and her limbs and body and heart complete and whole and his worn out to near nothing they made love without their lips touching or kissing or sighing or moaning or making any noise at all and without their hands sliding or gliding or holding or their limbs twisting or tangling or bending or contorting they plunged through love and fell into the river and walked over the mountains and tip toed past the sleeping gods of old and forgotten lore and danced and slept in the fires of eternity until she had dreamt of making him and he had forgotten of making her and both stories were true and both only a dream and some where in the distance of the past where the time before once lived and death and dream and love once fought and lost and won the wars and battles of long ago something smiled and then vanished