There’s a firefly buzzing around outside of my bedroom window. It’s really loud, which is odd, since last I checked, fireflies didn’t buzz, much less loudly. But there it is, and I’ve left the stereo in the other room on, and it’s a lot louder than I meant for it to be, but the firefly is even louder, deafening, and why haven’t the neighbors called the police?

And every time the little bastard calls out for a mate, it’s nuclear winter times ten, blinding, night to day in a millisecond and back before my eyes can register anything but snow. I can see nothing but snow, covering everything, a frozen blanket for the world outside my window; water, water, everywhere…

Flash and I’m blind again, and I wonder where my curtain has gone. I feel a hand on my shoulder, cool and soft and calming, and I close my eyes against the supernova outside. I hear your voice in my head, softly singing, Ani DiFranco musing on car crashes and gravity. I ask if you’ll start over; I tell you I love your voice and the feeling of your breath on my cheek, and I can’t hear you over the buzzing outside; and you tell me that it’s not a firefly but the sparks of a dying sun and will I hold you until morning?

And I notice that my cats are rehanging the curtains, though outside it is snowing again and the light is no more than a full moon reflecting off of the white that carpets the world. I turn to you and you are asleep and have been the entire time; through a tangle of hair, one eye drifts open and meets my gaze, and you smile and reach your hand to my face, running a delicate finger across my cheek, tracing a line that burns a path, hot iron to wax. And you reach into my hair (long, the way I always remember it in dreams), and pull me to your lips, and I feel the heat of your soul melting my eyelids and searing my brain and blistering my skin and then cool, cool, cool, your mouth on mine, soft exploration of the undiscovered, and I taste the sweetness of your breath and my heart explodes. And I’m suddenly aware of my hand on your hip, silken skin covering a frame that fits perfectly in my hand. As we pull toward each other, I hear the buzzing start again, 100,000 notes in the night sky, your hand on my chest to hold my heart inside and the scent of you envelopes me and I am surrendering to the gravity of you and all is dark and perfect.