“It is indeed your most fundamental and essential right—your right to accidents, to crime, to error, to Evil, to the worst as well as to the best—which far more than your right to happiness, makes you a human worthy of the name.”—Jean Baudrillard
“Do you ever struggle?” he asked in voice devoid of guard or pretension, a voice of nakedness, humanness, that communed of frailty within a strength, admission to conflict with a near—but ever beyond—godliness of soul.
She read into his eyes and, through them, his soul. His eyes held neither fear nor dread, but a desire, suppressed, yet still perceived to seeing and resonant soul.
She smiled. Her eyes cast warmth like heat of two candles lit, breathing and speaking, in soft flicker as they burned on table in the room.
“I do,” she shared in equal nakedness.
Low-roll of pocket door on track sounded as she drew it softly closed. The light of the room changed as blinds drew low. After, it was only them in candlelight of room; two shadows on the wall cast in illumination of full-lit selves.
She took his hands and drew him near as her body reclined to rest on table ledge in center of the room. Through space between, she felt his warmth—as he sensed hers—as eyes, like candles, spoke in shadowless light.
Two candles burned together. In their sharing of light, each was changed in the joining of resonant flame. From heat and energy’s release, wax ran in glisten-rivulet from holding, melting, touch of flame down smooth, cool skin of candle’s form. In their burning, heat held—centered—in their light.
Two candles burned together; breathing, melting, changing—casting single shadow upon wall—in release of shared and shadowless light.