I met a man.
"I was kissing my boss's son."
I asked him why he didn't go home.
I remember all those times when you’d turn to look back at me from amongst the crowd of people that brought us together and kept us apart, to laugh at one of my stupid jokes. Your eyes would sometimes meet mine and my heart would then skip a beat. Sometimes they’d just travel the length of my face, looking for something. At those times, my lips would quiver a bit, be a little too self-conscious about the half smile they’d put on my face. My eyes, then, would look into yours while yours wandered over my awkward smile. My heart would start knocking hard at the wall of concrete emptiness that separated you from me, making my whole being quiver a little as it urged me to scream out to you. I’d die a little, knowing this moment would soon be over, knowing we’d continue to live as though this moment never happened. I’d die a little as we’d go back to being one of those people that brought us together and kept us apart, and nothing more.
The sweetness dissipates. There are druids in the train station, witches in the bus depot. There is enchantment luring away the gatekeepers of the sacred seminaries of our most sacred religion. There are wind tunnels with words that trap the clever minded and the movie-maker wannabes. (Nobody is guarding the streets. Nobody is watching the wisdom children.) With a sweep of a hand, the conductor shifts the tone. With the nod of his head, the admiral orders the troops. With the squint of her eye, the romance addict puffs up the narcissistic scholar, just to deflate him with her cold steel lance. The sweetness dissipates. The plates are on fire and there is no food in your pantry. And now the sweetness is gone, the tone has shifted, the troops go marching by.
I had a dream about you, one that made me feel so loved it was magic. I woke up that morning and you were there, your arm slung over my waist and I could hear you breathing. And for a short moment in my still sleepy haze I couldn't remember where our night had ended and where my dream began. I couldn't tell the difference between my fantasy and our reality. And in that moment I felt so loved and it was magic, just like my dream. So I drifted back to sleep, you breathing quietly next to me. And that's when I realized that you're dangerous. You're everywhere in my dreams and reality. So please, please, baby don't shatter me.
I never thought I would be where I am: on the shores under the night sky with nothing on my mind. I never thought I’d have time to ponder things like “love” and “mercy.” I guess I’ve always been pre-occupied with the grains of sand hurling and tumbling down the hourglass. And I want to be a slow-motion sand grain (the very last one to slide through that narrow passage from what was above to what is below). And when I pounce on the pile, from my inevitable and reverent fall, the celebration will begin and all my lovers and all my companions and all my mentors and all my antagonists converge at a shore, under the sky, by the bonfire, and then begins real fellowship. Soon. I never thought I’d be here, pondering these simple things.