Tomorrow Always Comes
Sea breeze races through her hair, bright as the high noon hour,
While she walks the sands of time- barely there.
Eyes searching, always searching, the vast unforgiving water for her soul, her redemption.
She stops, feeling a tingle of awareness slither up and down her spine-
Her soul, her redemption is near.
A warmth envelops her in the shape and feel of her mate's arms-
Big and strong, capable of destroying any evil that stood in his way;
Yet soft and caressing to protect, care for, and love his mate.
She feels a sense of calm pour over her like a long awaited summer storm;
He is surrounded with a sense of peace, of belonging- his guilt-ridden soul is home.
She burrows deeper into his embrace where her world is no longer crumbling from beneath.
He holds her closer, tighter-
Afraid she'll be gone if he loosens his grip even the slightest amount.
The breeze teases the wisps of hair framing her face, repeatedly tossing them away but always there to catch them when they return.
The heat and warmth of the mid-summer day have surrendered to the chilly nip of the night;
Unlike their passion- an eternal flame that many have tried to douse, but fail time and time again, thus resulting in a brighter, stronger, hotter, fiercer flame than before.
They complete each other, though opposite; two halves of a whole-
Light and dark, big and small, life and death, heaven and hell, free and cursed.
Who is what and what is whom has yet to be decided between them.
She shivers- whether from the wind or him she's not sure.
He holds her closer still- to warm her or to not lose her again he doesn't know... maybe both.
They know the sand is running away from them, soon to be gone with the night.
And he will dissolve, fade into the shadow and starlight that lead him to her,
While she will smile like the sun with her friends, blinding them and hiding herself from the pain of her and her mate's separation.
Both wrap themselves further, deeper into each other, not wanting the sunrise,
But knowing it would come, regardless of what they wanted.
A thought flashes in his mind, long enough for him to pause in his gentle caress of her back and hair.
No- he knows he belongs with her.
If they were not, it wouldn't hurt so deep to be parted from her.
He pulls her close and whispers the words she's heard a thousand and one times but never tires of.
Here is where she belongs- not in the sunshine with picnics for lunch and children with sunburnt faces.
She wants HIS children, for if she can't have them, no others would do.
She rises up on tiptoe and, barely above a whisper because anything louder would break the spell,
Repeats his words, her heart and soul pouring out of each of those three words.
Then she buries her head in his welcoming chest, hiding from her responsibilities, his troubles and worries, but more importantly- their realities.
He gently lifts her effortlessly into his arms and lowers them to the chilling sand,
Cuddling her in his lap, as one would a small child awakened by a bad dream.
These times, these nights are all they have, all they're allowed.
The early morning hours are slowly peeling away to reveal his departure.
Neither wants to admit it, but they know their time is limited.
After all they've done, all they've been through, they thought they deserved a small amount of happiness, of contentment, of peace, of love.
They were wrong- only others were rewarded with the fruits of their labor.
But that fact only serves to make the moments they share more dear in their hearts.
Cuddled together, protecting each other from the world's truth,
They now know their sand has gone and left them on their own.
Goodbye is a word never spoken between them, with words or otherwise;
If it were he would not return to her night after night.
She lifts her head and he accepts her invitation without hesitation,
Offering what comfort and reassurance he can.
He holds her closer and tighter now, feeling her slowly being pulled away from him, his love... her rightful place.
Back to a world in which they only exist.
They hold on until the last possible moment, then are ripped apart and tossed back into their own realities they did not ask for;
He is awakened by an alarm, and she a glass of water, with no trace in the sky outside their windows of the stars' elegant script of their past, their present, their future.
They know in their minds and in their logic,
But their hearts and souls refuse to believe that tomorrow always comes.