astronomy 101

I kissed her right shoulder.
'And that would be Betelgeuse'.
She laughed. 'Oh, go on'.
Our vagabond bicycles rested against a splintered post, up beyond a country road at a dirt bike path to a pasture lane on an unexpectedly warm early April, hidden from the glare of city lights, lost from civilization, an abandoned 1954 dog-eared Guide To The Night Sky and red-lensed flashlight at our feet. Millions of firefly's hearts pulsed so far out of reach from horizon to moonless horizon.
'Pay attention now', I playfully scolded, 'Orion will disappear quickly'. I wrapped her waist and pulled her close. 'And your waist is the belt of Orion'. The cyclist in tangerine bike shorts did not resist.
'Where?', she whispered up under my chin.
'Up there', and she followed my lofting gaze, 'three stars in a row, see?'
'Yes, I see'.
'And follow those three down, and you have Sirius, the dog star, most brilliant of them all'. She held me tight, becoming the hunter of a grateful and surrendering prey.
'The belt is tied to the dog'.
'Nice'. I kissed her. 'Couldn't have stated it better. I am the dog'.