5 “What are you?”

He smiles a half smile, light dancing in the wake of his steps. "I am yours, no?"

A pointed look from me. "That is not what I mean."

The grass cushions my soles and tickles my ankles. Robins chat amongst themselves in the recesses of treetops, children's voices laughing from far away in a nearby playground. The skies ripple against orange and pink clouds, weightless islands of color.

I reach for his hand, holding gently to a finger and stand before him. I see the light he says emits from my skin, it glows subtly against our deep skin. "Why won't you tell me?" I say.

He is still.

Then a glance at the weightless islands. His eyes close. "Ask anything you wish."

"Anything?"

Gentle mahogany eyes on me. "Anything."

I am cross-legged in the tickling grass, him following suit and sitting beside me. The lines in his palm glow as I follow them into his fingertips. He pillows my head with his shoulder. Sweet petrichor.

"Hold nothing back," he says calmly.