Moses had loved Zoë for so long he didn’t think of time.
He kissed the apple blossoms in her cheeks, he pleasured in the cranberries of her full lips, the chocolate nipples, the seafood of her private parts. He reveled in her Venusian rhythms, the dark lunar surges, ebbs and returns, this gorgeous image of nature’s fecundity, the juices, odors, textures of skin, belly, neck, thighs. He held her tight and kissed away her tears, stroked her hair, sucked her lovely fingers, nibbled her ear lobes, gently sucked her tongue and joyously entered her and filled her with the essence of himself, while all the while dreaming through her dark eyes the soul’s turn in her earnest Karma.
Moses cried out in his sleep, flailing he awoke and found from her wet, warm lips soft reassuring words, a song of creature comfort. Joined in every conceivable posture, their bodies rocked into a higher plane of unity and pleasure.
I need you, Zoë moans, redoubling Moses’ efforts.
Even in dreams he made love to her, as if drinking at an oasis after a long journey. You are my Fountain of Youth, Moses whispered, my Immortality, my Heaven, my reward in Paradise.
Let it be so, she prayed. Let me capture this joy in my heart and fly free of fear and death and all things sad and remorseful.
I am not afraid, Moses said and lay down beside her bed of eternal pleasures, her ripe belly of prairie grass, I am home now.