It’s snowing, and the stillness of the moment is time travel. My seed on her chest is a lake. Ancient. Hidden. Godly, like a forest. The blue of her eyes a sunrise, as endless as eternity. The flakes of ice touch my tongue. Fizzing like sweets, they itch my teeth and I giggle like a kid as my fingers dig into her scalp. Beneath my fingers, her hair flows like water and I’m reminded of all the rivers in those towns and cities I’ll never see. The thought of all the lives that come and go without m...