Footsteps, deep in the settled snow are left in pairs of two. Ungloved hands entwined, fingers enmeshed, warmth which makes its way up craved lover’s arms.
They stop at their spot right inside the gray woods edge; look around briefly before their eyes meet and as if on cue, drawn to each other, their eyes close and lips come together in passion.
Making their way through the wood, they come across a fallen tree, Daniel crosses then without warning he reaches under Mary’s arms lifting her very powerfully up and across. As she comes back to rest, crunching upon the snow with twigs under her feet, her hands upon his arms, they stop. Looking at each other, his hands rest with hers frozen in place. Any excuse to touch each other is grasped, her softness, his warmth, their togetherness.
The dance of mouths around necks and hands cautiously searching for a place to shyly explore remains....
Mary’s breathing turns from heavy to whimpers....
“Daniel, no, no, we must...”
“Jah, we must stop,” Daniel finishes her sentence, kissing her one more time, “Jah....”
Looking at each other they embrace and just hold each other. Though the passion is no longer unbridled, the warmth remains. And there they remained, leaning against the tree, with time passing, holding each other holding each other’s future, holding unto the promise of rekindling the passion in a time soon come.
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