Another Hundred Years

He can still feel the warmth, so it cannot be it. The sigh, so deep and heavy, but it’s there. So, it can’t be it.

He just caresses her slowly, make sure she feels comfortable. It might be his last time, but he never wants to believe. Their time hasn’t enough yet, has it? Why can’t he count every minute they used to have now?

Her eyes closed, but whenever he whispers, she opens up again. Smiling, as if she wants to ensure him that the world hasn’t ended for both of them.

They just sit around in the backyard, the place where the laughter used to fill the air surrounds them. It’s all quiet now, accompanied by heavy breathe belongs to her. And the silent sigh that heavied his heart.

“I used to grow lily there,” her skinny finger points at one spot.

“And I always thought you fool because flowers don’t grow in our kind of soil.” Soil so dense without airholes for the vulnerable root to spread her gentle arms. Yet, she tried, while he’s just all grumbled.

“Yes, but I succeded with bougenville. Such a strong flower, indisposable and always refuse to surrender.”

Just like you, he adds it deep inside his heart, as his mouth is tightly shut. He doesn’t want to imagine what will happen if the lips of his even slightly shiver. He might cry.

The summer breeze caresses their cheeks, their hair, whisper the spirit alive in his thinnest body.

“We will live. For another hundred years. For another decades of fights. For another months of grumbling. For another minutes of laughing.”

She smiles.

Smile that always ends to a laughter. It’s summer, when one’s allowed to laugh. The time when the goddes of happiness shares the blithe.

In the clear blue sky, the bird rips apart the clouds, force them to make way to him. Only one small bird.

“Yes,” the lips of his shivers a bit, “we will live for another millenia. We’re always gonna refuse to surrender and tear down to another pitch of those dark valleys.”

He grits his teeth, “we will survive this game and let our spirit crashes them.”

“Crashes their darkness.”

He looks, surprised and amazes. If one smile can lead into another laughter, will the dimmed light of a candle turns into bright shimmering sun?

He smiles. Whispering to her, “yes, all you have to do is close your eyes, now.”

Thus, he cries. As he always knew he would.