When Angels CryChapter 1 "You are fair, my love, you are fair. You have doves' eyes within your locks,and your cheeks are lovely," he whispered into her ear as his right arm embraced her.
"You are like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains," she responded, following his lead.
"Your lips are a thread of scarlet, my sister, my spouse," he continued. "Honey and milk are under your tongue. Your breasts are clusters of grapes!"
"Kiss me with the kisses of your lips, for your love is better than wine," she replied. "Your fruit is sweet to my taste."
"Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away, I will feed among the lilies," he declared.
"Behold, my love comes," she sighed, "leaping upon the mountains and skipping upon the hills! Comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love!"
A sudden loud banging awoke her and she struggled to focus her foggy blue-gray eyes. Through the curly dark hair strewn across her face, she glanced at the chipped black plastic clock that hung on the brown paneled wall.
"Seven o'clock," she mumbled. She glanced across the narrow wooden bar into the tiny kitchen. In old gray coach shorts and a torn maroon T-shirt, he was working over the white stove. She breathed in deeply. Ah, garlic and ginger. He was making stir-fry chicken and rice, her favorite.
"You're home," she said as she sat up on a black metal day bed and watched him work. She smiled as she thought fondly about the poetic scripture quotations that had flowed from his lips in her dream.
He was still as handsome to her, even in his old raggedy clothes, as he had been the first day she laid eyes on him. She had gone that day to the courthouse to renew her driver's license when he suddenly appeared beside her on a stairway.