Sparks. A candle shines in the background. He glides along her pale skin, crossing the barriers between, pressing himself to her. Maybe from need, or, perhaps, only lust. They hesitate – writer’s block – and stare longingly into each other’s eyes; hers, a crystal icy blue, his, a deep sapphire. The light flickers and quickly regains its steady glow. She pulls him back to her. He gently traces words and memories onto her stomach, across her face, down her thighs. He moves like a typewriter, across to the edge of the margin, then down. He only pauses occasionally to rest, to think. She patiently waits each time for the connection: physical, emotional, intellectual; for the fusion of their bodies into one; for the warmth of his touch to encompass her frigid body, setting them both ablaze. Ballpoint images, some faded, appear all over her body. Suddenly, the flame ignites. It pulses through their bodies, urging them to touch. Their motions collide, forming undulating waves, so courageous, so unique. They intertwine and let go of everything: hopes, dreams, doubts, fears, insecurities. All that holds them back from sharing the beauty of creation. No more secrets, no more lies – only each other, the truth in their eyes. He pulls away, dripping candle wax. It’s done. In this one moment, she shines, their masterpiece imprinted on her body, for the world to see.


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