The High Seas- When All Else Is Lost

A nudge knocks me to the airwaves, and then the page.

"It is beautiful because I love you; it is sad because it ends so soon, and you are so far away."

I pause in reflection and calculation.

"The beauty would ultimately yield to the sadness."

Without even a beat missed she replies.

"But it hasn't yet."

I don't know what to say. It's true. It should be impossible, but it's true. Despite our physical distance, I lean over and rest my head on hers. This press to end, like the nudge to begin, speaks along channels I had been a mere novice to only days ago. Nothing more needs saying, or even thinking, as the precession of moments is now marked by heartbeats, and wordless images of heat and contact.

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