Coming to work in the morning, a morning just like any other
morning, my hair fastened back in a pony tail holder, walking down Bradley Avenue
She motors
on ahead of me. I can see her, from a distance of 200 meters ahead of me, I can
see her as she parks her car in the parking lot close to the Hesuer art center,
I can see as she walks straight like a plank, a timber, a cedar, walking
perfectly off of the sidewalk, into he building, I can see her ahead of me,
two-hundred meters, I am wanting to walk into her like a doorway. Like a
passage. I want to find out how to unlock her. I want to find out which keys to
jangle; which one will open her up, spread her arms like wings and count the
feathers that drip from her smile, as if an angel had momentarily abandoned the
confinements of a needlehead, and decided to pleasantly relocate to her lips
and now ( in my dreams) having just kissed me, having had some of her touch and
rub off on me; the bacteria and skyscrapers of bacteria, having moved in closer
and felt every part of her lips, I wipe my lips afterwards and think angels
have just feasted, taking a bit off of my lips as well, and decided not to ask
for it back ever again.
***
There is the moment when you see
her body nude in front of your own uncloaked hide and the only think you desire
is for your body to be a part of her body. For you to be inside of her and for
you to be one with her. For you to go inside and bang and whine and ram and try
to find that ever elusive something that you lost long ago. It is at this
moment when this is the only thing in the planet that matters. You want to be
inside of her because you want to feel like you are a part of something.
Essentially, you just want to feel.
*
“No,” Brook
says, with a slightly Southern drawl kicked through her lips. “you have to lick
it first.” She says, as she swats her hand over her tongue and then plants it
(her hand) between her legs.
“Lick it
first?” I look back at her rather incredulously, the wrinkles in my forehead
shaped like a question mark. I am after all the sexual veteran.
“Lick it
first.” She says.
*
“Vanessa,” Her mother says gain to her, pulling out every
letter in her daughters name like she has just made a connective paper doll
display out of last weeks funnies.
*
“David,”
Vanessa says, her hair arrayed in such a fashion so that it looks like a brides
veil that has recently been undraped. “You’re so deep inside of me.”
*
“Oh
nonsense.” Her mother is saying, escorting me downstairs. “You can just sleep
here tonight.”
*
“David,”
Jana’s voice says once again. “Have you ever heard of anything called the
festival of lights?”
*
“Lot ’s of sex.” Vanessa says, speaking of
her new house. “We’re going to christen every room every day for a month and then more.”
The sun is taking a bravura-ridden
encore, bowing the top of it’s head toward the purple ribbons of the West.
Laurie is wearing very tight jeans that make the LEE leather square on the back
of her ass look like a VIP lounge sign. I am talking to Judy, the girl I have
thought on all summer. The women whose mere thoughts induced multiple juts past
subway because that is where Tim saw her but she forgot what Tim’s name was.
“Judy,” I
look at her and think about how her face would have looked in her senior
yearbook picture. I think about the size of her boobs the angular features of
her face and how we smashed Vodka tonics into each other the night of the
Dining With Friends Dinner. I think about how her lips spread open like a lotus
and how I frisked my fingers into the top of her skirt, my body hard, my penis
stout, as I caressed her and tried to enter her. The shudder of her eyes as I
fell into kiss her the first time.
On the
soccer field Metamora has just scored another T.D. One of the parents is
shouting out, “That’s how we do it!” I look at Judy. There is a slight Carmel
“I just
wanted to express my gratitude.” I say. “I just wanted to express my gratitude
and thank you for that crazy night we had last summer. It was such a rapturous
night. I felt like I was kissing princess Diana.” I say. Judy blushes. Not once
does she mention that she could be my mom.
***
..and Megan is coming. Coming in a way she has never come
before. She is coming into me like the airplane I once came into her,. Coming
to me over the phone, her hand, cupped inside her panties, flicking chants,
laughing, smiling, and she is coming, hearing my voice, wondering where I am
goping, wondering what I will tell her to do next, wondering what part of
Europe I will take her to next, wondering what I will show her.
She comes.
She comes like she has never came before. She comes screaming, kicking her
heels like she has just entered the planet for the first time. She comes, tears
streaking down her face, crying, chanting out my name, thanking me, thanking me
for bringint her to this precipice, this spot wher she now needs to leave,
needs to join the moon above her and yell out and fling.
David, I love you I love you so fucking much
There are
things that is all likelihood should have been said, sentences that were kept
bridled behind my lips; words that should have been spilled out of my throat
like a maladroit waiter clumsily knocking over a martini at a Country Club.
Things that should have been said, apologies on my end of the spectrum that
should have been sputtered, mistakes that should have been confessed; kisses
that should have been planted, embraces that should have lasted longer. But no,
in this fleeting moment in space and time, this second that eclipses too
suddenly, there is simply a grave goodbye.
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