Title: Stars and secrets
by We_r_the_kids_our_parents_warned_us_about from Warwickshire | in writing, poetry, love
Camping that night was dragging on. The you came, with a sigh of relief and a skipped beat of my heart my mouth uncontrollably curved to a smile. That happens alot around you, it's not something i can explain or stop. It's not something I want to explain or stop either.
Laughing around the weak new-born flames of the camp fire, the warmth of the summer breeze and setting sun on my skin. The warmth of the naked flame flickering to and fro. The warmth of your body holding mine. I needed nothing more.
As time passed the sun departed fro view, as did we from the others. Into the mysteries of the night, of the waste high grass; far enough as not to be seen or heard, but not far enough to feel scared or isolated, we lay beneath a blanket or stars.
"It's like a picture..." You were right, It was like a black canvas with glistening white stars painted into constellations, into stories and beliefs whole civilisations were formed upon. No matter how much we tried we could never quite grasp the enormity of the universe we were staring into, but i dont think we really needed. Right where we were was more than enough, each other's company worth more than the stars in the sky.
I told you the stories of the stars, laughed as i moved your pointed finger to the right stars, drawing the characters and their lives in the sky. You listened with such interest and innocence as i told the mysteries of the universe, of the Gods and their friends. Stories of betrayal, innocent, family...and love.
You put you arm around me, held me close as the darkness closed in on us. The look in your eyes set my body calm. Nothing mattered but us, you and me, there and then. You and me. Friends and lovers. Black and white. Right then I didnt want anything but you, and the feeling was mutual.
If I had known that was the last hug, the last laugh, the last "I love you" then maybe I would have made it last, taken more in. Or maybe it was meant to be like that. Just a moment.
Whatever it was, whatever we made of it, whether it lasted or not; The memory is mine.
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