my arms
are wrapped
around
her from
behind;

my chin
rests
on
the top
of her head.

molecules
of ethanol
cascade
through our
bloodstreams,
hum in
our brains,
warm our
faces.

we watch
our
friend
and his
new bride
dance
on the balcony
of the
reception suite
in the
warm
Las Vegas
evening
as the lights of
The Strip
twinkle
around us.

i hug
her
closer
and she
turns to
me.

i kiss her
forehead.
she says
she never
wants this
day to
end.

two pigeons,
lit up
by the
green spotlights
of the hotel,
dart across
the night sky
like emerald
meteors
as i tell
her that i,
too, wish
this day
could
last forever;

even though
i knew,
come
tomorrow,
we’d be driving
back home,
hung over
and
tired,
preparing
ourselves for
yet another
interminable
week
at work.

‘maybe, there
is a heaven,’ she
said.
‘and maybe, it’s
nothing
more than
getting to
spend eternity
in the moment
of your life
when you
were
happiest.’

i didn’t say
anything
to her
then,
preferring
to let the
moment wash
over us.
but, if she is
right, it’s
not so important
to me in which
moment
i get to
spend eternity,
just that
i get to
spend
it with
her.