Orion’s Belt, Legends Old and New

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Orion’s belt. You point out a slender, beautiful finger, and tell me about the constellation, then trace the outline of “the warrior with his eye, two hands and feet,” I struggle to conjure the image but try nonetheless. I almost succeed till the sweet musky scent of your perfume and sweat – hanging delicately in the humid sea breeze –  distracts me. It’s getting me high and I scoot in a little, hungry for more. It’s an intoxicating yet calming rush, being this close to something so simple, so real. We’re laughing silly and you rain tiny kisses on my cheek, reducing me to a puddle. In that moment, something lets loose, a little sound like a sigh from my soul. I gesture with my finger and you lean in; my whisper of “I love you” has you giggling like a child. In that moment, I don’t care about anything, at all. Nothing at all.
You soon get talking about possibilities and alternate worlds where time does not exist and forevers are completely fathomable. I smile, beam, finally being allowed a peek inside the workings of your brilliant mind. You point out to the skies, we spot Mercury and Venus, talking about Zeus, legends old and new, while I wonder about how much I have to learn from you. Eyes trained heavenward, you seem engrossed – thinking about time-less galaxies. It’s beautifully quiet, except for the slight murmur of waves hugging the shore as the tide rises, matching the moon’s ascent in the sky. Amid all this, I sit close enough to breathe in your scent. Feeling secure and happy in our little bubble; as if the whole beach is deserted save for you and me. I think galaxies far away, look down with twinkling eyes while mine silently smile and wonder how exquisitely your gold-tipped lashes catch the light and shine.

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