Mauve

You look not away from the scene. The twin moons rise, and you smile. They shine, and you smile. You hold my hand, and I smile. You caress my palm, and I feel peace. The gentle breeze is coarse compared to your touch. Why knew I not before?

You are as excited as the first time we came. Your favorite spot, you said, where the edge of the world is visible, and the town’s edge blurs with the horizon. No dangers, no creatures, no gods to interfere with the sunset. Me, you, me, and the twin moons.