Fallen

You look pensive, she says.

He looks into her eyes, and silently traces the arch of her brow, the curve of her face, that small half-smile of hers with his gaze; then smiles and says but that's just the way my face falls...

*****
When he was young, he used to dream of falling; just falling through space, with the wind in his hair, and all around him, plucking at his arms and legs, caressing his face.