A Cellular Memory

He spoke to me and I felt his words on the back of my neck as near as a sunburn, yet I dared not look at him. He sat closer than I was comfortable yet I could not move away my heart beating – a timpanic vibration, emblem of mortality which left me breathless. The sun shrouded in afternoon clouds a small disc of celestial music was nothing but mute gospel. There was no savior watching over me and no forgiveness for the sin of being available. I danced with an invisible partner. Until I grew, I knew only the daily news of his breath on the back of my neck.