The Cemetery

The cemetery was encased in deep shadows from the moon, the trees sighing back and forth in a low breeze, the last leaves rattling, but not quite ready to fall. We walked down the center of the graveyard, down the only paved path, until we hit the mid-way point, and then, without a word, we both stopped, turned to each other, and gazed into the other's eyes...

"I come here a lot," I said. "I like to watch the sky and just lie here and think."

Am I the Matter?