The Scattered Bones

by Nicole Scarano

The man I long to talk to is dead, and if I can’t speak to him, then I prefer silence.

I welcome the pain if it means I can hold part of him.

He threw his head back and laughed, and I wanted to live inside that sound. I hoped it followed me all the days of my life.

The way his voice rumbled through my chest as he said my name stole my breath. I would never tire of hearing it on his tongue, of watching his full lips form the sounds.

I say his name over and over. If I must die, I’ll die with him on my lips.

“I don’t want to take anything from you.” Conviction fortified his voice. “I want to give everything to you.

Varas may be the god I’ve pledged to, but you’re who I want to swear my future to. You’re the altar I pray at, the deity I worship, and I would sacrifice my life for you, but you don’t belong to me. You never have, and you never will.

“You are my goddess.” His low admission rumbled through his ribs, vibrating against my skin. “You are what I pray to, what I worship, what I adore.”

“I love you, Sellah,” he whispered into my hair. “You own me. All of me. Forever.”

“I only take what you give willingly. You’re in control. Promise you’ll tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Eyes on me.”

“Gods, Sellah. You feel like death and salvation and euphoria all at once.”

“I’ll want you even in death, Sellah. There’s no afterlife, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll love you until I’m dead in the dirt, then I’ll love you until my body is nothing but bones. And when my bones fade to dust coating the earth, I’ll still want you.”

“You’re my wife.”

“There are no gods in this bed but you,” he says as he kisses my throat. “You are my goddess. You are who I worship.”