I don't let the excitement and pleasure show on my face, which is pointless, as he can read my mind as easily as I can read his. "You can always stay," I tell him. "You know that."

"Not forever," he sighs, and buries his beautiful face into the pillow.

"Forever as far as I'm concerned," I say.

"Sleep," he says into the pillow.

He takes me into his arms and presses me to him, his flesh already starting to lose its warmth, its color. I relax and let consciousness and life drain out of me until I'm as good as dead.

When I wake up at sunset he is leaving. He's put on his still-wet, still-muddy, cast-off clothes, dumpster wear, appropriate for his hideout underneath the Pioneer Courthouse post office, but shameful on his body. Already his head hangs down; his hair obscuring his face. "Don't go, please," I plead, knowing it's useless. John is not mine. John is John's.

He glances up at me for a second. "Come with me," he offers.

"No, John, I like to have a house."

"And I like to have a road" he explains. "I like to have earth. Earth... and... sky." His eyes nutter closed for a second, and he slips into a beautiful, untouched, heavenly reverie; then he is back, and the pain in his mind takes over again. "I love you... but I can't... forgive you."

"I know."

He touches his temple and smiles apologetically. "It... doesn't work anymore," he sighs. "G'bye."

"Wait-another kiss-" I start half out of bed.

He stands at the door and kisses the back of his hand. Then he waves the hand, and he is gone. "I'll be back..." His voice floats faintly to me. I roll over in bed and stare out the window.

Such is the world.

end.