Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

10.17

The most beautiful sight he's ever seen is his new wife walking back from the bathroom wearing his shirt, and he can vaguely make out the umbra of her waist eclipsing the lamp in the hall. Her celestial body moves slowly into a syzygous alignment between his eyes and the only light in the room, and as her shadow falls across his trembling stillness, he takes a shuddering breath.

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