The boat (bed) gently rocked to and fro in waters (sheets) clear (clean) and calm (fresh). Trev felt the warmth of a breeze kiss his neck and, like fingers subtle, brush the hair from his forehead. The movement soothed, lifted, lightened and dissolved burdens as salt in water. Somewhere off in the distance, faintly, a bird called, echoes as pebbles dropped into the limpid water, each a siren call to sink deeper into the arms of nature. The sun shone bright radiating a penetrating heat as rays, upon skin taut, nestled home, giving forth life from distance measured by minds in ivory towers.

If his eyes could have rolled any further into the back of his head, they would have. Silence pervaded except for a single sound, a steady lapping of water against the hull, rhythmic like drums on a dry plain (or rain on the roof), heat rising in the distance, sounds (memories) of times past just out of reach. Louder banged the drums, just out of sight. Steady the beat on skin pulled tight, a beat that bespoke of education, of intent, of plan. Trev pushed his head into the pillow. His hips rotated with a mind of their own. He watched with sensation, seduced by forces beyond his understanding, forces of nature before and after, without beginning or end, forces that would ebb and flow.

From within a warmness grew, radiating from center outward. Legs tensed. Arms followed. Mind focused, spun, rose and sunk and still the lapping of educated friction, a sound seductive, marched on, relentless in firm purpose. Breathing increased. Lips opened and spread, softening to the tune of digits divine. Tongue flicked and smile melted into the intoxication of surrender taken. Time gave way to timelessness. Gravity took recess. And, as if by magic, the wonder of neither this nor that rose from darkness to light.

A presence hovered, not seen. Intuited. Not questioned. As cream flows, richly, inevitably, up and forward as soldiers at the whistle. Hope springs and fear pushes. United. Birth greets death as dawn emerges from night.