Bathed in a crisscross of moon beams through the
lattice,
the rooftop looked like a backdrop for an alien
ship landing.
Her nervous fingers stopped twitching
at the shuffle of footsteps.
He bent down and
kissed away an errant tress
from her creamy breast.
Till long into the waning moonlight,
the only sounds in the air
were the fireflies singing
and love juices meeting.
For twenty years,
they had kept up this rite
of meeting here every Friday night
while down below in the house,
everyone slept,
children and all.
← Naima Rashid