From the rock I’m seated at, I watch her dramatic little moment unfold, lifting my cigarette to my lips, readied to light it as she whispers. “I hate you, moon.” * * * “What are you doing here? How’d you get here so fast? I just saw you—” “I ran.” * * * “Now I’m baptized in you.” * * * “I’m gonna give you the stars, and the moon, and—” “Love. You’re going to give me love.” * * * “I’ve always loved you—my whole damned existence, even before. And I’ll love you after I die. The world will have to dedicate stars to us. Because you will always be the only fucking one for me.”
