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  • Of summers and kings.
    Megan Perrin
    14 Mar 2003

    That summer love took the form of a tall dark man, who wore tight jeans and eagle feathers and danced in smoke. He wasn't the Adonis that I had always imagined falling in love with, but he was so close that it hurt.
    He had raven black hair, which he kept in a traditional tribal braid. He would let me braid it occasionally and would laugh when I ran my fingers through the long silky strands. I had never seen such glorious hair. His eyes too, were black as midnight. I thought that if I looked hard enough that I would be able to see stars or the moon or maybe even Mars, but I had no luck. And he laughed at me again.
    "You're a dreamer." he said. And then he whispered words to me in his native tongue. Words that were meant to help me dream
    He was a dreamer too. Through his tales I discovered that his dreams were very much like my own. He had once dreamed that he was king of all he could see. And as king he was gifted with talents beyond that of normal humans. He had the power to stop wars, soothe pain and liven dead hearts.
    He was a good king in his dream. And I was his good queen. He dreamt of me on a pedestal, high and mighty. He told me that in his dream I was life. I was the air that our subjects breathed, the food they ate, and the music they danced to. I was goodness and grace. He was hope and healing. Sitting on our thrones we ruled the summer away. My good king and i.
    Love sang to me that summer, and held me close. His songs will haunt me forever because they were also my songs. Each line he sang was something I wanted, something I needed. He sang about the sky. He sang about the sun. And he said I was the basis of every tune, the inspiration of every song.
    "Together we'll make music soar." He whispered and kissed my happy tears.
    My king read the poetry of the gods. He acted scenes from long forgotten plays and read books others had never heard of. He educated me in languages lost with time and taught me how to love in each one. Through out the summer I was his student and he was the teacher, and his methods will always stay with me. I thought we would be together forever, my king and I.
    And then the summer ended and with it our time together. He had to leave. I had known it from the beginning but had denied it all along.
    "I have other dreams to dream, child." He told me. This time there were no kisses or whispers. And I watched as he road away in search of new lands to tell about and new feeling to experience. I was not sad to see him go for I knew that he would always come back.
    And he did. The very next summer a king came back. The same black hair and golden skin. But this one was mine to keep. The child of my love affair with a king, a god. And I taught him what summer could hold. I told him of dreams and poetry, of forgotten languages and plays written by time itself. And I kissed his happy tears and whispered lullabies into his head.
    My king had returned to me. And we ruled together him and I.