They discussed the possibility of rain. They made love. They discussed the possibility of mountains. She forgave him bad bones. They discussed the possibility of rain and mountains and cowboy coffee. He forgave her short legs. They discussed the possibility of midnight. She put her fingers on his lips. The discussed the possibility of silver. He stroked her legs. They discussed the possibility of reels. She kissed his fingers. They discussed the possibility of liquor. He licked the dust from her throat. They discussed the possibility of painters and poets and pain. She let her fingers linger in his hair. They discussed the possibility of bleeding to death. He bit the arch of her foot. They discussed the possibility of the midway. She kissed the small of his back. They discussed the possibility of borrowed rooms and provocative duets. They made love. They discussed the possibility of morning. His fingers crept down her spine. They discussed the possibility of madness and melodrama and love. They discussed the possibility of theatre, grand gesture, the pose. He. She. They discussed the possibility. They made love. She said and he said they talked to much. They made love. The rain, the dust, a provocative duet.

–Sarai Austin

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