Occultation

The sun coming in through the window in front of Bez puts a halo around her head, making her look as though she is made of light. She looks over the street outside, unaware that I am awake on the sofa and watching her. I was up far too late last night, and could not be bothered to leave the living room for the comfort of the bed. It is no hardship, sleeping on my sofa. It’s very comfortable in its own right.

Bez’s shadow stretches across the wooden floor behind her, and I reach my hand out to touch it. I trace the edges with my fingertips, feeling the temperature difference between light and dark, knowing the curves of the shadow as partners to her body’s own, a sister in darkness. The dust moves and swirls in the eddies created by my movements, ships sailing on the tides of atmosphere.

Bez leans forward and raises her hand up against the glass, and her shadow shifts in turn, caressing me with its cool darkness. I angle my head into the occultation, letting the weight of the shadow rest against my throat and my cheek, kissing it with my lips, tasting the lingering flavor of last night’s midnight mixed with silver and gold.

I breathe out the slightest whisper of contentment, and Bez turns to look at me, favoring me with her smile.

There is no light in heaven that outshines her own.