This place always felt to me like something borrowed. It was comfortable, nice, but never mine-- not even with Isra’s love notes swirled through the streets, painted across the walls. And even though I feel lighter tonight than I have in many months, I still don’t feel like I’m home. So I do what I often do in moments like these, when I am struck by a deep sensation of being out of place and time: I lose myself in the crowd. I open my mind and let their thoughts wash over me.
It isn’t quite like forgetting, but it gets me close.
Isra is here. My heart knows it before the rest of me; it politely lets me know by beating just a little faster. It doesn’t take me long to find her-- when we lock eyes I smile, the smallest smile, just for her. “Hello, stranger.” I plant the words in her mind with the tenderness of a kiss, and I step forward.
Or maybe it’s she who steps forward. Or both of us.
It gets confusing sometimes, when I try to distinguish between I and she and we. When we’re pressed skin to skin, I have to remind myself there is still a distinction between where I end and she begins.
When we’re apart, it’s a different story. Let me show you, again and again-- I promise I will never tire of it. Me here, she there. Just watch what I can do. Watch as the space between us dissolves away like a bad dream. Watch me light her up. Fireworks, broken glass, salt water.
And what, you might ask, does she do to me?
In a word, everything.
I was not always so bold. I remember taking dance lessons because I knew she would be at the wedding of Somnus and Eulalie. I wanted to find her there and ask her to dance because I needed to.... I didn’t know how to say what I was feeling at the time, didn’t even know where to start. And as foolish as I felt, dancing seemed like the only way to-- to touch-- to show--
You know, even after all this time, I’m at a loss for words. I know I’m not the only one. There are a lot of men and women like me, who never tire of watching storms come in from the horizon-- who even go out of their way to welcome the rain. But it’s me she’s looking at now. It’s me who slides close enough to extend my nose to bump against hers with a familiarity that makes my heart ache.
“Dance with me,” I ask even as I step forward so we are shoulder to shoulder, swaying to music a beat too lively for our gravity. I know somewhere out there the daughters we made are running around like wolves, with wolves, grown tall and fierce and perfect. I drape my head across Isra’s spine, and I let myself feel like I’m home.
E I K
the world, a double blossom, opens:
sadness of having come,
joy of being here.
It isn’t quite like forgetting, but it gets me close.
Isra is here. My heart knows it before the rest of me; it politely lets me know by beating just a little faster. It doesn’t take me long to find her-- when we lock eyes I smile, the smallest smile, just for her. “Hello, stranger.” I plant the words in her mind with the tenderness of a kiss, and I step forward.
Or maybe it’s she who steps forward. Or both of us.
It gets confusing sometimes, when I try to distinguish between I and she and we. When we’re pressed skin to skin, I have to remind myself there is still a distinction between where I end and she begins.
When we’re apart, it’s a different story. Let me show you, again and again-- I promise I will never tire of it. Me here, she there. Just watch what I can do. Watch as the space between us dissolves away like a bad dream. Watch me light her up. Fireworks, broken glass, salt water.
And what, you might ask, does she do to me?
In a word, everything.
I was not always so bold. I remember taking dance lessons because I knew she would be at the wedding of Somnus and Eulalie. I wanted to find her there and ask her to dance because I needed to.... I didn’t know how to say what I was feeling at the time, didn’t even know where to start. And as foolish as I felt, dancing seemed like the only way to-- to touch-- to show--
You know, even after all this time, I’m at a loss for words. I know I’m not the only one. There are a lot of men and women like me, who never tire of watching storms come in from the horizon-- who even go out of their way to welcome the rain. But it’s me she’s looking at now. It’s me who slides close enough to extend my nose to bump against hers with a familiarity that makes my heart ache.
“Dance with me,” I ask even as I step forward so we are shoulder to shoulder, swaying to music a beat too lively for our gravity. I know somewhere out there the daughters we made are running around like wolves, with wolves, grown tall and fierce and perfect. I drape my head across Isra’s spine, and I let myself feel like I’m home.
the world, a double blossom, opens:
sadness of having come,
joy of being here.
@Isra <3
Time makes fools of us all
