Warm Bodies Mtrjm Kaml -

(R places his forehead against hers. No biting. Just pressure. Just a question waiting for an answer. Outside, the Bonies grind their teeth in the dark. But inside the plane, time stutters. A piano chord that was silent for years suddenly plays itself once, then stops.)

“Trans… late… com… plete.”

I am the translator. She is the completeness. warm bodies mtrjm kaml

I don’t have the muscles for a full sentence. I have rocks in my throat. But I push one out. (R places his forehead against hers

I point at my chest. Then at hers. Then I make a fist and open it slowly—a flower, a bomb, a heart. Just a question waiting for an answer

I don’t know what it means. Maybe it was a song once. Maybe it was a name. The syllables land in my chest like coins in a dry fountain. Mtrjm. A translator. Kaml. Whole. Complete.

Before her, my vocabulary was small. Hungry. Cold. Grr. Argh. Lights out.