The intake of breath. The dream in reality. It was the dance of life. The shape of truth. The lump in the throat. The gulp. It was all that and more. It was the slowing of time. The heady rush of blood to the brain. It was summer skidding off the skin. It was light. It was light everywhere. It was the rush of two into one and the end of long and lonely thoughts. It was fingers on the piano. Every note perfect. Running and slowing.
It was blinding.
The hand in the other. The dance around everyone else. The same horizon. The breath. The falling. The light at the edges. The sunrise. The dance around everyone else. The hands in each other. The slowing of time. The dance of life. The sun is rising. Light pink curling at the edges. The hand in the other. Sand in the shoes. The water at the edges. The same wonderful horizon.
It was the music. The same music. The same music every morning.
It was stars. It was all the stars in all the worlds.
It was the end of everything.
The beginning of it all.