A Wooing

With our stomachs full of pan cakes and whipped cream and delightful fruits, we decide to take a stroll along the bay. The sun is out at mid-noon now. The seagulls fly high in the sky over the slim, sandy shores. We stop at the end of the dock and look out into the offing. The blue of the water grows darker and smoother-looking the farther out the eye wanders.

“We ought to go fishing off these docks one day.” Kez states, her eyes out on the horizon, “I imagine there’s wonderful little fishes here to catch.”

Several boats line the dock pier, a decent modest one sits on the right hand side, just behind a single empty slot. “Well,” I say, “let’s go then!”

“And take a boat? Steal one?” She looks aghast, but excited.

“Yes, ma’am!” I take hold of the rope of it, “All aboard Mr. Fisher!” I exclaim.

“Mister Fisher mustn’t be his name, he must be Lady Perth. And he must be a she.”

“I like shes.” My eyes sparkle.

“So do I, Miss Amalei.” She plays back. I grab her face and kiss her wonderfully hard.

“Off we must go! Push off, Madam Kez! Let the ocean be our trodden plain for the wonders yet to discover! A canvas of the painting of us in this very moment of soon-forgotten time!”

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 becomes 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. 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.

Excerpted from The “Eternal I”. The dock scene and the boat scene.