MEMOIR | LGBTQ | EROTICA | MICROFICTION | LITERARY
Echo and Eros
Sex isn’t an act. It’s geography. It’s the place where flesh and spirit meet.
Beside the ancient rise of the Puu Mahana cone, the bay revealed its depths and shallows in braids of turquoise and teal. The unremitting wind whipped tiny olivine grains against my legs, and when the tide tugged at me and the cool sea soothed stinging skin, I found I had no words.
I merely resounded the waves in gushing whispers because an echo has nothing to say.
Until I came to this green sand beach at the end of the world, I didn’t know I was an echo. It wasn’t until she found me that I learned the difference between an act and an inspiration.
Kui came from where the black lava rock met the Ka’u rainforest and welcomed me. She seduced me. She changed my life.
She was blonde and earthy, and green waves flickered in her eyes. Her spirit was wild and her body strong from the island’s labors. She lived in a tin shack and drove an old truck and was the richest person I’d ever known.
In this Eden, food surrounded me. Rain spilled from the broad canopy in fat drops, drenching the riot of fallen papayas that was a sweet breakfast each morning. A net cast from…
