past the coroner

The tides swell, moving with the ebb and flow.

The sun, warm and radiant controls the fate of the moon, the night beacon, one that give way to the paths of darkness. There is this draw, this pulling sensation that causes one to respond to the other like two people growing to understand the complexity of the other.

She is warm. She enhances life around her. Her kingdom basks in her presence.

He is cold. He is dark and covers the mysteries of associates. He shies away from the light but is intrigued.

The attraction caused a tide.

He did not understand what drew him to her. She was everything he was not, but it was a compliment, almost as if fate were asking him to give peace a chance. He wanted to be at ease, but he found she changed too much.

She was the summer and he was the winter. She did not seem to recognize the contrast between them. It was something as old as the dawn of time yet it rippled anew every morning, establishing something that is directional.

He felt a sensation. He was being drawn in. Pull me in with a lasso. He thought. I am the moon.

She sees him come towards her. Rope tight in her hands, unsure of how quickly to pull.

The attraction caused a tide.

They met in the middle. Hesitant silence envelops them in queries of memory.

There has been something there before. There will always be something. It is striking. It is evident. It is stark. It is elegant.

He reached out his hand to her lips.

She was suddenly immersed in black luminous shadows that burst from her timid skin. The sparks flew into the darkness, flowing around the both of them until he drew his hand away.

The attraction caused a tide.

She looked at him. Her eyes welled up.

He saw her for who she was this time. He showed sympathy.

Her tears finally to the point of flood spilt over and streamed down her cheeks.

He touched them.

They froze.

The attraction caused a tide.