After, they walked slow and in peace down streets and parkways under trees in full of autumn’s dress. They walked in the shadows and the sun, with mirth and intimacy one finds only in city of strangers: bustle and race of others on their way, in their lives, unseen and in oblivion to all but the two who walk in experience, together.
Returned to home, they made love in the open space. As birch from the last of autumn’s wind, she undressed slow, wind by wind, until at last left standing—bold, pale, and striking in open natural. He loved her then and there, taking fast and strong, pressing into concaved depression of stairwell’s window; fast steadied into controlling slow in love against the pane, eyes closed then opened, bodies covered from the street by maple’s foliage-cast: yellow leaves tinged to sunset orange and tipped in scarlet’s red as body hued in change of loving’s same: the cool of the pane and warmth of the sunlight through as she breathed slow and deeply in embracing of it all. Eyes closing again—only feel; holding, drawing, embracing further as they loved in the full and open of autumn’s romance-height.