Chapter Text
You are in Heaven, aren't you?
Warm summer breeze over the lake
doesn't disturb your quiet slumber...
You're busking in the rays of
sunshine, that caress your pale
skin with the heat of the planet
breathing – in and out, out and in –
this hot season's aftershocks.
You're cradled tenderly, lovingly
in your husband's lap. It feels like
a dream (it's real). It feels like reality
(this is your my-dreams-came-true-
I-can't-believe-this-shite-I'm-
here-he's-here-too-this-is-real-
this-is-real-this-is-real-this-is---)
"Ilyushen'ka?" (---real-moment...)
"Nothing, I just love you so much,
you know?.." He knows. Of course,
he knows: he wears your ring
not as a burden, but a sign of the
utmost pride. And love. And the eternity
of your souls, if not flesh...
Your skin is warmed up by
Mother Nature and your own adoration
of your gorgeous husband, who plays
with you curls, like with a snoozing
puppy's fluffy ears, absentmindedly
(Well... He does walk you like a dog:
before the wedding, during,
in the days to come thereafter...
You love it. You crave it. You'd
scream about it from rooftops,
if you could, like a Siberian husky,
singing his heart out, waiting for
his master – under the big blue sky,
above the big blue seas, full of
the energy of blazing suns, that's
called love, "HE'S MINE! I'M HIS!
Woof, woof, motherfuckers!.."),
watching, as the sun goes down.
Your eyes are closed. You're
nuzzling into his belly through his shirt
(Yeah, yeah, like a pup, so what?..),
and he giggles – fucking giggles –
quietly, cradling your body with
his own, cradling your face with
his hand, brushing the pad of his
thumb against your cheek,
against your lips, whispering,
"Behave...", and you just smirk,
without opening your eyes, and
catch the tip of his thumb with
your lips – softly, your teeth – gently,
just to be contrary, and he doesn't
mind... You just don't know what
to do with yourself: your love is
a black hole within your chest,
feeding on his proximity, hungrily,
wanting more, and more, and...
You hope, it will never become
his destruction, but evolve into
a tool of transformation,
or transmigration (who knows?):
you hope you'll be able to find
him on the other side, in other
worlds, after the day that the
planet stops still (...a black hole
is a hungry growing puppy, you
know?..), just to cover every inch
of his skin with feather-light kisses,
like you're doing right now, holding
his hand against your lips reverently...
He's the master of your heart,
he's the owner of your leash
(your marriage certificate makes
it so, your blood pumps it so,
your mommy told you so:
"You'll find your happiness, Ilyusha,
and your joy will become you...")
You snooze, and not lose – but gain
his soft touches, his happy giggles,
the warmth in his eyes, when he
looks at you like you're something
precious... Maybe, there's a black hole
of his own within his chest?.. Woof.