Crazy?

1

I picked up the grain of sand from her hand, pried her fingers open as she refused to part with it, placed it carefully in a vise and with hammer and chisel started working on it. From time to time opening the vise, inspecting it against the sun, rotating it and hammering on. She looked at me bemused, head cocked to one side and eyes flashing restrained mirth. Finally she could not hold it in any longer.2

"What are you doing?" she asked.3

I did not answer, kept chiseling my way into the stubborn grain of stone and stopped just when her hand was on the vise's lever ready to roll it open.4

"I am fulfilling your dream. I am chiseling a love poem. I am writing you a kiss."5

"A kiss in one grain of sand? Do you really see what you are doing? Can I look at it?"6

"No need for me to see, I feel it," I said, opening the vise's lever and catching the grain in my hand. I looked at it again against the sun, smiled knowingly, turned it around and then, happy with the result dropped it in an empty jar. Then picked up another grain, let her kiss it and started working on it. "Do you nevertheless need to see it?" I asked mockingly, with deep emphasis on you.7

"You are crazy, you know?" She was behind me, arms around my waist clasped in front of me, lips on my neck.8

"Not more than you," I answered, chiseling on. The second grain joined the first one.9

The sun was setting, the small jar was almost three quarters full and she never released my waist from her hold. Neither removed her lips from my neck. My fingers started getting sore but I was not going to stop working, not until I finished the beach. Then we would have to move on to another beach. My mind was calculating roughly how many jars I would need... getting into the billions didn't worry me, I was crazy anyway. And she did not mind, she loved me. 10

I felt the pressure around my waist easing and the lips deserting their duty on my neck. She moved in front of me, took the hammer and chisel away from my unwilling hands and threw them far away. 11

"You are crazy, you know?" she repeated herself, as if her mind was stuck on this page of her lexicon and refused to move on.12

"You said it already. Isn't that why you love me?" I asked innocently. Well, after all I was innocently crazy and I liked my newly defined status.13

She picked up the jar looking at it thoughtfully. Then she wet her lips with her tongue and let them sink in the top layer of sand, hardly reaching it by pouting her lips forward. When she removed her mouth her lips were covered with a thin layer of sparkling specks. I did not fight it when she twined her fingers at the nape of my neck pulling my head down towards her and grinding that layer of sharp silica against the demanding layers of my own lips, cutting their way in like thousands of miniature meat cleavers. I felt the warmth of blood painting my lips corners as she reluctantly let go of me a long time after.14

"You are crazy, you know?" I told her, not daring touch neither my painful lips nor the glimmer of hers. "Why did you do it?"15

"First, this is my text line, you thief of lines and kisses," she smiled, then picked up the jar again and slowly turned it upside down. The breeze picked up the flowing rivulet and scattered it over lands unknown. "Secondly, were these grains not supposed to be poems, kisses, seeds of our love? You said so, did you lie to me?"16

"I did not lie to you," I said, meekly, remembering myself being caught stealing the neighbor's apples. "And these grains were not supposed to be poems, kisses, seeds, they were poems, kisses, seeds..." I felt like crying. "Now they are gone, my poems, kisses, seeds..."17

"You are crazy, you know?" She exploded in a tinkles laden laughter happy to have gotten back in control of the master communications phrase, and jumped into my arms. I had no choice but catch her and allow her cheek to lean on my shoulder. Women, always exploiting us, though it was not clear to me what exactly was it that she was exploiting here, but it was a reassuring thought to a certain extent. Meaning I was at least conscious of... "Shush..." she shushed me, and I became aware that I was probably mumbling incoherent phrases... "Do you really want to know why?" I nodded but she repeated her question.18

"Yes," I said and the sound of my voice seemed to satisfy her. I had to lean my ear close to her mouth to hear her whisper.19

"Because I share your dream. And I long to share your poems, and kisses, and seeds of love. Forever." Her hold around my neck tightened. "And because I love you."20

My sorrowful tears were instantly put to shame by the sudden flow of joyful tears. I may be crazy, I thought, so what? So may she be, who cares? And I didn't even care to think as far as who cares? as I watched fascinated a flock of white pterodactyls suddenly dive out of the dimming blue, snatch each a shimmering point out of thin air and powerfully flap back up and away within seconds. How long did the mirage last?... I don't know. When finally my eyesight cleared into focus again I leaned my mouth towards her ear and it was my turn to whisper.21

"Your love seeds are being carried away, they will grow into an endless garden, eternal."22

She did not answer right away and I kissed her just to make sure she is alive. The taste of sand I picked from her lips was grinding heavenly between my teeth. She seemed to be sleep talking, and I am not so sure I got whatever it was she tried to get me to hear. But the closest I could guess was...23

"Our love seeds are being carried away, they will grow into an endless garden, eternal."24