Cicadas hissed a lullaby with the whistle of the wind and shuffle of tall stalked grass sounding beneath the last life song. Delphine led Jacob through the familiar field, behind the barn where they had spent countless mornings tangled together, sweatslick and gasping for breath. They had laid, moon bleached and written their love, lust, insatiable desire across the human landscape in hot kisses and murmured moans of, "Don't stop." It was in those times that Delphine knew what eternity felt like, she had found it in the wander of his hands and sky bright blue of his eyes. Jacob stumbled slightly and laughter crawled up her throat and crashed against the back of her smile as she led him to the old oak that stood tall and stretched its knobbed arms to the sky as if waving to the heavens.
"Don't laugh!" He sulked, humorously.
"Shhh." She rolled the sound from her tongue and stopped abruptly; Jacob nearly collided with her and dropped his arms to constrict around her slender waist like a python. His fingers slid across the smooth, thin fabric and his brows pitched high with curiosity.
"What are you wearing?"
Del said nothing, only flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to the cusp of his lower in an exchange that was as familiar between the lovers as the sleepy Southern town that could never understand what they had; this eternal love, this forbidden romance. Her fingers walked up along the back of his neck and plucked at the tether that bowed the blind fold behind his head, once loosed, she gently pulled it from where it drooped along the slope of his nose. Both seemed reluctant to seperate, but when they did Jacob's eyes flared open wide to take in every inch of her body and Delphine held a breath in her chest in wait of his reaction. The voodoo queen had abandoned the flamboyant flapper fashions of her grandmother and red velvet horror of her grandfather for a dress more suiting; it was a blue that mimicked the sprawl of the gulf sea that tied behind her neck and sunk to the point of her sternum, the second skin fit flared at the swell of her hips and skirted along her thighs. Jacob's jaw dropped and he studied her shamelessly, his hands walked up her sides and played along the keys of her ribcage. Fingers smeared across the exposed ridge of her collarbone and shoulders before Del turned in an up flutter of the skirt until she faced him again.
"Do yah like eet?"
He said nothing.
"You-- You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You always were, but, my God, Del ..." He stuttered, repeatedly, falling over his words while his hands folded against either side of her face and smeared his lips to hers. Delphine curled her fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled his hips into hers; like puzzle pieces they fit together perfecly, they had been made for one another. His hands pulled from her face in a drag of fingers along her jaw and clasped behind slender thighs to hitch her body up. Her arms draped around his neck and without further hesitation he dropped back against the old oak and sunk down with her thighs butterfly spread and her hips dropped down to his. Eager hands fumbled with buttons, fabric pulled and peeled away.
They howled to the sky like moonsick wolves, hot cries of, "Jacob!" and "Del!" echoed from their mouths while they writhed throughout the night until the sun spread through town and cast their shadows tall and as one. "I love yah," she breathed against the curve of his lips, three words that had been said many times before and would be said again many times after.
"I love you, too, Delphine Ramis. Always and forever."
<P ALIGN=justify>What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war.</align>