A Voyage
There was no 4A.
There was no 4B.
No Leonard.
No Amy.
A blinking check engine light
A thunderstorm.
A trip, ill-advised
Several miles had left them alone.
The rain beat hard against the glass of the car.
Silence within the car
Chaos their inner companion
No mention of the light
No bars on their phones
Night enveloped them
The heavens continued to quarrel, the rain the tears it shed
A rented room
Her hair wet and slick, her clothes unforgiving.
His veneer no longer shone.
Anger.
Resentment.
Shame.
Regret.
Confession
Fire.
The air thick with lust
She cursed the time spent fighting, regretting the moments wasted,
Her fists on his chest
Wild and gentle the same
His mouth silenced her words, quelling her rage
Unleashing her longing
His mouth her salvation
Clothes forgotten on the floor
No calculations
No formulas
No symbols
Clothes forgotten
Her body a map
He was a cartographer mapping his voyage
No logic
No reason
Just be
Two bodies no more, the rain outside, the wetness within
Inviting
Enveloping
Thunder clapped, he rumbled above
Green pools of jade beckoned from below
Blue skies glimmered to her from above
His body her canvas, her mouth and body the brush
The universe of her body, his hands fought to explore, understand, consume
Clinching to him, he was her helm, her body their vessel
The pressure building and rising,
Mass
Acceleration
Force
Explosion
Tears
Embrace
Love
There was no 4A
There was no 4B
There were just two who became one.