The sun rose on the horizon, half way over the earth, half way under the earth, coloring the land with the yellows and reds of morning light.
He laid on his side and looked out the single window of the one room house.
He felt her body against his, her chest on his back, her leg over his hip, her arm around his shoulder, holding him. "
"Her hands are my hands,” he thought, “Her feet my feet, her heart my heart, her life my life.”
"See with the eyes of your heart," he had learned as a boy, "For it is then that you will truly see."
He saw her brown eyes filled with kindness, her dark hair on her shoulders, her naked body beautiful, beautiful, her worn hands and feet calloused from hard work, her soft smile a light for the world.
He turned to her in that morning light and held her until he could feel her heartbeat upon him.
- trevor scott barton, stories for a brown-eyed girl, 2020
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