The Boy, The Girl

There was a couple in the woods. A girl with bruised hands and a boy with strong fists. And the couple lived off the berries of the woods and swung from try barks, holding on to dried leaves, afraid to fall and break their heads. They clung to each other dearly, and with great passion. The girl was a floatation device; the man was young and wild. They mended their lives to fit into each other. The girl was white and feathery, like a quicksilver that was rarely captured at night. The boy would hold her, and at times his heaving sobs would crush her thin body. The milk from her nimble frame would pour into a cup, always in the hands of the boy, who drank from it freely. The boy was sweet, and he was endearing, and he was young and they were fools, to be in love at such a time.