This is an excerpt from, The “Eternal I”, by Amalei Hemworth. The boat scene.
She takes the wheel at the helm and turns us about so we face the slot where the ocean pours into the sky. Sometimes I like to imagine that there is a waterfall, graceful and wide, where the heavens greet the great waters. And maybe one day, we will all eventually be pulled off the earth by it and we’ll kiss all the fall into heaven. I certainly would be kissing Miss Kez Hemworth. She’d be all my eyes could see. And that certainly would be falling in love, don’t you think?
Even now, I can’t take my eyes off of her. My God, she is graceful, standing there; her sandy locks—a sandy auburn chestnut; the hair of angels—flowing about in the wind. The wind of our sails leaving the shores of human habitation and becoming a simply-existent only-us. The world falls away.
“Miss Hemworth,” I slip between her and the wheel, when the shore became as small as my finger, feeling a magnitudinous pull of affection for her—always, such is my state, but extra gloriously in the present— “I require a kiss from the beautiful Kez. And my heart will not be satisfied with any wooing of earth until I obtain it.”
“Then it must be granted you!” her eyes are wide in playful shock.
Our mighty little ship floats uncaptained for a brief eternity as she caresses me and we kiss the most beautiful kiss I think two humans ever share. Passion burning upon our lips, hearts thirsting for the ever-flow of our spirit’s eternal love. Oh, what quenching a kiss can do for the thirst of great affections; a quenching and a teasing; propane to a roaring fire. A hungering is what I have for her. It is an eternal hungering of my heart for everything about her.
A great, consuming fire must have gone rampant within me, making it so necessary that my soul be near to hers. In this life, it must be, before we can return to being a unified spirit ever-within and ever-engulfing each other, eternally and forever. Even an eternity of forevers. Forevers like this one where we share mighty kisses on the open sea with none else but us to dance in the sky of life.
My passion when I hold her only grows stronger, and I can tell it is the same with her when she pulls me tighter, closer, and presses her lips so firmly against mine that we really might as well fuse together and be truly one flesh. My face felt like hers and her face felt like mine, and my lord, that is what beauty is. Being one body with your very love.
Alas we come apart, for flesh we are, but alas, we are alone in the quiet serenity of these waters. The city cannot be heard, nor can the city hear us. And this is the way I like it. For it to be just us. All of life is about the single moment we are within. And I’d like all of my presents to be composed of her. Every moment with her, for it to draw out into eternity like it does in my dreams. Indeed, in my mind, that kiss lasts forever. It never ends. That is how I imagine our souls will be: in an eternal state of kissing the other with acceptance and fullness into self and of self, for we are “I”. We will always be “I”. One spirit in fullness, a clasping, a joining, in a celebratory kiss of the other half of “I” finally found. It is a never-ending rejoicing of the entirety of “I” and the joy of ever-composing and solely composing and never losing the we that is “I”. Our canvas of being will always be “I”, and in this human state, I hope it is always we.
We spend many hours floating upon the glass of the earth, the mirror of sky. We talk and laugh and stare at the perfect features of one another. We daydream and hold one another. Kez catches two fish and I catch a minnow. But, around 4 (that is my guess), we sail our vessel back to land, back to life, and back to this world.
Kez stares at me as I tie Lady Perth back up to the dock.
“There!” I finally state, satisfactorily.
“Your fingers are mighty talented, Miss Amalei.” She teases with a coy smile and her eyes dance. I laugh at her mischievousness and come up to her and hold her hands and kiss her again on her lips.
“I like these kisses. May we always share them?” She states more than asks. I nod.
“I’m going to marry you, one day, Kez Hemworth.” My eyes are light and dreamy again, “I swear it by the heavens. Even if I die trying and have to whisper my vows from the grave.”
“How dark of you.” She squints her face, but can’t deny a small smile. Holding up both hands with her fingers crossed, she says, “I want to actually be able to kiss you when we marry.”
“You could kiss the dirt!”
“If you were the dirt, then I would wed it. But then I’d never walk, for fear of treading you.”
I put on a thinking face, “Is that really the criteria for a good wife? That you be able to kiss her on the day you wed her?”
“Yes, I reckon, it is.” She laughs at her own silliness. “But, I think the first and most important criteria to a perfect wife, is that she be Amalei Jane Ostanne.”
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