Counting
By Arthur Klepchukov
Heartbeats begin with one. Hopes divide. Countless, cloudy nights roll by, concealing every breathtaking North Star behind adolescent futures. But she’s not the one. You are. You haven’t learned to count. She’ll teach you in thirsty seconds that’ll multiply after first blush until anniversaries arrive. After wandering the winter nights, the clouds will have imbued patience, focus. You’ll subtract all other stars. You’ll venture a perilous question at moonrise. Yes. And then there’ll be two. So you’ll believe it begins with you and ends with her. But hopes still divide like nuclei. And nine months later, you’ll be blissfully wrong.
Bio: Arthur Klepchukov would rather you read his stories than this bio. ArsenalOfWords.com
