What is a Moment

All beyond their circumference dimmed into nonexistence; the universe reduced to the lengths of their bodies. Fear imbued their muscles. He gripped with every inch of her body as if to be strong enough to keep her soul in its place. Eyes grabbing, locking, burning this last image of his dark, abyssal eyes into her brain, into her spirit. She feels. Warm moist breath caressing her face; a hand squeezing hers; an arm around her back, pressing her into his chest and the blanket abode of his stomach. With all of his might, he pleads to God; begs and bargains with his very own soul. His insides screaming. Burning. Cursing. Praying. She feels his heart beat. Attempting to break from his rib cage and leap from his chest, ready to catch her when she flies away. ‘this is it…’ she thinks. Her mind races, attempting to preserve every last drop she feels of him. Of life. Her heart beating, weakening, but beating. ‘This is what you feel like.’ she breathes in, filled with cool abundant air and with his hot breath. She feels it in the tip of her nose, the core of her throat, the expansion of her lungs. ‘This is what you feel like.' the strain in her muscles as she squeezes his hand, moving about, quivering; the bones of her fingers heavier and heavier. She documents, as if one day having to explain what it was all like to feel. Thoughts running together, trying to remember everything, searching through moment after moment trying to find that one moment she’d want as her last thought. Imprinted in the final synapses. ‘This is the only moment.’ She thinks. 1

“you are my last thought.” She whispers softly between her struggling breaths. His face glistens with tears and sorrow. He shakes his head, still begging. 2

“No, no, no, no, no…” He whispers under his breath, his lips wet and parted. “Not now, not now. Not like this. Never. You… You are my life.” He cradles her, imploring her soul or the force that pulls it. She feels his fingers slide across her moist cheeks and her cold, wet eyelashes. But she feels it all begin to fade. Her fear no longer stimulates her body to feel so. Her heart does not pound and her eyes do not widen. Her hair does not stand on end and she does no sweat and breathe heavy in panic. The lights fade and every moment she ever looked into his eyes becomes this one moment. His hand begins to feel like feathers, light and cool. His warm belly and beating chest become echoes in this night. His breath upon her becomes a light and wispy breeze from afar. Her last thought fades into nothingness as she imagines that she is only falling into the depths of his eyes. She’s falling. She feels the lightheadedness without her head and that gut twisting excitement without her gut. His face disappears, The browns and golds of his eyes pass her. She finds herself absorbed by his pupils; falling; fading; lost in his depths. And she is no longer outside.3