Page 200 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

Kristin Flyntz

Embracing Duncan

When I saw him, he was asleep on a bed of autumn leaves. Sugar maple and oak, I

think. His strawberry-blond head glowed like native honey in the mid-afternoon sun. He

was stretched out long and laying on his side. For a moment, I watched the rise and fall

of breath in his body; the rhythm eased me, inhale by exhale, into my own body and

breath, where I felt myself gradually come to rest in the space behind my belly button.

Leaves and twigs crunched and snapped beneath my feet, as I closed the space

between us with a few ginger steps. I lowered myself to the ground and lay down beside

him, spooning from behind, my chest and belly curved to his back. I placed my right arm

across his body, tentative, gentle, wanting him to know I was there, yet not wishing to

disturb his rest.

Beneath the sweet scent of new fallen leaves I could smell the earth, and the musty

aroma of an older layer of foliage that had begun to decay. Above us, the sun played

upon a full canopy, suffusing the air around us with a rosy hue.

I pressed my face to the back of his head and inhaled full and deep, gradually syncing

my breath with his. He was warm and soft and solid. With each exhale, I imagined

emptying all my adoration into him through the narrow space between his shoulders.

After a few moments, he stirred, and then turned to face me. Following his lead, I

enfolded him, first with my arms and then my legs. He leaned in, and eyes closed, I felt

him press his brow to mine.

In this embrace, I felt a deep, secret connection. As we held each other heart to heart,

time and words were of no use or consequence. I felt ecstatic and utterly at peace.