Then he deflowers her, pulling away the greenery.
Then a blue vein thinning into a hollow.
Then it is the hollow between her neck and lower jaw.
Then spaced ligaments twitching in his forearm.
Then connected in lightlessness, they are.
Then by an invisible capillary network.
Then balancing on her nates, her legs in the air waving.
Then he returns with a limp.
Then into her bent back.
Then she is grabbing at unused hair over her head.
Then he is inching backward and turning his face.
Then offers her his armload of giftstraw and loose ash.
Then backing away horrified.
Then coming toward him, hands upward, palms out.
– Forrest Gander