The Copper Hill
We were strangers once more with our arms lounging against the crisp horizon, our feet weightless on the rusted metal plates that refused the existence of the force called gravity. I brushed my front strands of hair away from my eyes and gazed over at the figure sitting less than an arm’s reach away.
The man I know lives in that body, exists in that shell, but he is not the man I know. A tear flickered on the edge of my eye as I realized that the man I would give my dreams up for no longer walked this world.
I walked over to him, my hands shaking from an emotion quite unknown to me. My legs quivering with each step – although that very well may have been attributed to the strange metal beneath my feet.
He looked up, but said nothing. His face was blank and implied nothing. Even his limbs remained stagnant, filled with the nothingness that now consumed him.
An urge arose from inside the very roots of my soul and implanted itself into my nervous system. I grabbed his unmoving head and kissed his plated skin. My eyes drowning in the expression of his incandescent glowing eyes.
My hands found security as I placed them upon his bare cold back. My legs found their long lost home wrapped around his slender waist. I kissed him again, firmly on the lips, letting the Passion burning inside my skin escape onto his.
He closed his eyes and I, mine. His body made no attempt to escape my clinging hold. I stopped kissing him and let my head rest upon his broad shoulders that eminated off rays of shimmering gold.
I laughed. Loudly and filled with all the hysteria of a madwoman.
And then I cried. Tears that filled with agony and relief, achievement and grief.
The tears ran down his back. Some slipped beneath his intricately plates skin. And continued down. To his power core.
Lifeless once again. The man I loved. Atop the peak of the copper hill.