the leavers dance

The wind rippled tiny stalks of grass and the moonlight shone real bright. I leaned in closer. She smelled like blown out candles and her skin felt soft, waxen, against my fingers. Her hair fell in circles around her shoulders. She was wearing it down. I could see the weight of her eyelids and that small smile, the one that ruined me every time, creeping upwards, and I kissed her. I laid down on the cement bench, my head resting in her lap, and her fingers were in my hair, soft strokes and gentle reminders that she loved me too. I closed my eyes. She began to hum. I've only known you for a month, I said. She didn't stop humming, but I could hear the smile beginning to take shape.

- I know, she said.
- I still can't believe it, I opened my eyes. Searched for hers.
- I think I've always known you though, she said, and she shifted to cross her legs.
- Do you believe in soulmates?
- Sometimes, she paused.
- I waited for her to complete her thought.
- Sometimes I think that, she paused again, I suppose I don't believe in them, no I really don't.
- Commitment and devotion are two different things, I said.
- I think that the idea behind soulmates is that there isn't much work involved, she began to fumble around in her purse, black leather, and she pulled out a box of camels, a small lighter.
- Matches drive me insane, I said.
- But maybe that's not true, she said, I just feel like any two people can end up together, like really end up together, and be able to make a life together, she took out a cigarette, handed me one, brought another to her mouth and cupped her small hand over the end as she lit it, a cherry red flame, smoke.
- But when the levels of devotion are uneven, I paused as she lit the cigarette in my mouth, dangling and then a bright glow.
- Then that relationship needs to end, she let the smoke fall from her lips, upwards, past her freckled nose, disperse in the cold night air.

I sat up. The hollow sound of drumbeats, rhythmic and scattered, echoed through the open door, and the dancers began filing out, one by one, drunken, happy, leaving behind a thick scent, dark with musk. Dead leaves, withered and skeletal, shuffled around their feet and I heard the music suddenly fade as the door to the livewire closed. The quiet was sudden, and I looked for her. Her cigarette was down to the filter, and she brought it up to her mouth anyway, sucked in without looking, and exhaled, frowning, dropped the butt and crushed the cherry beneath her stiletto. She pressed her hand into my leg, just above the knee, and she turned her head, looked at me real good, and smiled differently, bigger, more crooked, and she said I love you. I love you too, I said, and i put the dying cigarette out with one hand and felt for her hand with the other.