The birth of 'I do'

How the wordless wind soughed at the touch of dawn, woke up and stretched
her frozen knees. How she lifted her torso with a weep, her sanded wrists
so slow leaning on her thigh so heavy with the weight of the sepia-day. How
she dithers before with a hoarse jerk, pulled herself into breeze. To rise and meet

this sour cloud. Who said his shoulders were older than they should,
who said the sun burned his neck and the water in his belly was so heavy and so
filled with dust, that was desert-dust that traveled from windshield
to child's fingers said he: this, he envied he said and he coughed
and complained that this foreboding of a rain was not even his
crying anymore.

The wind could do nothing but kiss him and listen ('t is what winds do). So,
she stroke while he spoke, she stroke and so drove him straight in a wig of two
mountaintops in the sun. Here she laid his head in his neck, shampooed it
with snow. She did this so that his lips became tame and her silence his. He
(melodramatic) rustled: 'cuff me and leave'. And though she understood,
she smiled out a smile
and stayed, she
stayed anyway.

That night she sunk down to the valley to sleep with him in her arms. But
he was a cloud that not could be as gentle as mist. So despite his best effort
they stormed and they poured as they roughened their love over meadows
and horses and bushes and trees. She clung to him tightly, her thighs thrust in
his waist as they keeled over and over, blending land and sky. In this
turbulent passionate twister, his lightning slit her  sanded wrists, letting it bloom
in shattering glass. Thousands of tumbling mirrors, all her small
deaths, echoed

how immobile his voice had hitherto been. How he worldless had spoken the sun
out of the sunrise, the sepia out of yesterday, the freeze in her knees.
Thus drifting to sleep, he whispered while she sighed, he vowed all his cloud under
her eyelids to live. When sun rose she was alone, opened her eyes and shrieked
from surprise as she cried and she cried unstoppable tears this was he as he teared
his life from her silent sight into rainbows and ponds, into rivers and cups of tea.
And when, after days, he was gone so was she,
embraced in an ethereal
'I do'.