Drawing Saltwater Air

She kicked at my dangling foot.  “Don’t be such a goofus.”  It was good she laughed; I became more secure in her interest.  “Gorgeous night.”

Cool saltwater air washed in my lungs.  I leaned against my arms on the still warm rocks from a day in the summer sun.  One hand I placed behind her, and she leaned into me.  Her head fit perfectly into the crook of my shoulder.

Leaning my head back, our eyes went to the moonless sky.  Darkness pervaded on all sides.  I loved the way her sweet scent mingled with the coarse smell of salt.  My eyes were likely to roll back with satisfaction, but I had to maintain control.

“Ever wonder how many there are?”  I was referring to the stars in our eyes.

“Between ten sextillion and septillion,” she said, a grin in her tone.

“It must be exhausting being God making all those stars.”  The breeze coming in off the water flicked her hair across the back of my neck.

“It’s bad form to bring up religion on the first date you know.”

I traced the outline of her face in the velvet dark.

“Is this our first date?”

“It is our first date, our wedding night, our entire marriage,” she said.  Pointing to the stars, “and these are our children.”

“We’ve been busy,” I nipped at her ear.

“'As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death.'”

“I remember Leonardo da Vinci.”  I pushed myself to my feet, and pulled her up with me.  The ocean far below, it’s saltwater scented tractor called to us above.

“Do you remember what you promised me?”

“I never forgot.”

She took a step away from me.  I don’t remember the feeling of water.  Just her scent.