The stars align. The planets align. My breath slows. The crickets sing me a lullaby as I fall back in your arms. Why are we the children who dream of letting go, of never letting childhood slip from our fingers kissed by stars? Why is childhood so blessed? I fall from your embrace and collapse on the ground and cry over the beauty of the sun. The world turns as the stars dance about us, as the wind sings, as the aurora borealis appears. I want to climb the lights of the sky and dance in the auroras, but that sea of dark blue scares me as much as it fascinates me. Your rose is made of moonlight as you reveal it and hand it to me, a child. Yet you are a child, too, and you are weeping tears of joy as I take the rose and kiss you on the mouth. The kiss is warm and gentle and we float away and dance in the twilight. The aurora rains on us and the stars become one with us.
I hold you as the night turns to day and the birds sing to us. We float down and walk in the warm grass as the clouds surround the sun, narrowing its light to shine on us.