I’m working the canyon’s shadow side, chasing tiny birds. From across, I catch the flash. Binocular glass. I take a peep and see her, leaning against a tree, watching me.
Is it the jolt of an unexpected Aphrodite in this time of loneliness that compels me to slowly cup my breast? I don’t know, but without hesitation, she does the same.
Our needy craving understood, we watch our hands descend, baring ourselves, capturing Covid starved cunts. We find release together, united by the radiant passion flowing across the gap between.
As our echoing cries slowly fade, the sparrows sing again.
