Last Lovers

The hard face of the cold moon rose that evening, but as by a miracle it was set ablaze with salmon-colored light, a trick of our atmosphere gone suddenly romantic. And down here upon the surface, where the bayou swam with sentient sparks, you and I huddled close on a spongy log, shooting our tongues into the night. Packs of vampires prowled the reedy shore, but took no heed of us. The last money-minded men and women had taken a boat into the stars, so they were missing the red moon, the deadly fangs, and all the undulating swimmers hidden beneath the skin of nighttime's water. "Survival of the fittest" means being on the right raft in the right eon. We made the babies, but God knows they were just an excuse for orgasms.