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“I will take some of your finest sans serif water, please. And that manicotti. I have been thinking for weeks about that manicotti. I want to marry that manicotti.”
“Look, you’re pretty much the only game in town, if you’re the sort who’s even remotely into human contact,” I say. “So yes, I’m looking at you. Looking at one another is what humans do. You’re allowed to look at me, too.”
“Ambrose, we are in the middle of space. Ship time is no longer anywhere close to Earth time. At our speed, time itself is warping around us. Are you really worried about getting your beauty sleep, so you can remain gorgeous?”
Kodiak. Who are you?
Intimacy is the only shield against insanity. Intimacy, not knowledge. Intimacy, not power.
Minerva: As long as I’m alive, someone loves you.
You love Kodiak. This is the hidden miracle of all this: you might be loving each other deeper than any humans have ever loved, have ever needed to love, have ever had the occasion to love. Well, maybe Adam and Eve did, but you and I both know we don’t think they ever existed.
These same eyes have traveled all of his body, these same hands have held his, have parted that jumpsuit and explored what’s beneath. Will do that, judging by the messages we left. I study the line of his neck, and I wonder. I study his dusky eyelashes, and I wonder. I study the power of his legs, and I wonder. He looks back at me, and I know he is wondering, too.
He’s a stranger, a lover, and my life partner. We have lived and died lifetimes together, and it makes me shiver every
Poetry
