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November 23, 2005
For you...................................so you would know
You got to push a bit more, got to try harder. We would reclaim this age, we always have, for we never stop. Take a different tack, find a new passage, lets read the book again and decipher, maybe we remember. It's all here, we know that, there are passages to unknown, remember that night reading the book, the cold sweat and the shiver. It was not the wine, it was the air we breathed, and the connotations of the word, it was all there, remember we stopped, we could not dare any further. There is a reason for sunsets, there's reason for not seeing, we could not take it any more, and it was more, much more than we expected.
I miss the wine, those faces, and the comradery amongst us. I miss the thirst, what happened to our curiosity, you see we have been engulfed in so much mediocrity, we don't see any more, we don't hear, it's all here, we just got a glimpse, like when we saw the neighbors daughter in her room in a quiet trance, and how we got scared, for we were not allowed, don't, don't worry about the comparisons, urges are pure, specially at that age. You followed me when I opened my palm and showed you the sun, but I knew, I always knew you never believed, you were too factual, too realistic, but I could not let go, journeys need companions, touching reality needs affirmation, and even a non believer like you soothed my loneliness.
Yes, you, it was only me and you, don't deny it. I was the keeper and you knew that, but you needed more miracles and miracles are for those who believe. you liked my hair, the arrogance of my walk, and the loneliness that was brazen and independent, you liked me more than you wanted to, you knew I will take you there, beyond the limitation of my physical reach, I would take you there. Doubts, you held on to you doubts and hid them in your pockets, and asked me again and I had no patience for your doubts, we had to walk, reasons are for those who live carefully , not for me, the way I glowed in your eyes, I was the keeper and you knew, like you knew the east and west of your limitations.
But, would you have laid on the stone and trusted your skin to my daggers, I expects much, too much, and you did not know, I had a garden full of heavenly creatures, and I would have taken you there, so you see the law, the basic measures of living, and how they would have guided us to a close eternity, but you held on to your doubts in your little pockets, and I had to leave, I had to leave you, I could not afford your doubts, or your silence, and you knew you had lost me, your
keeper, your cultivated self, your daring ghoul, you lost me, and I left.
There is tendency in all OD us the turn the key, and allow the light to dictate our reality, but the house was empty and dark, and you stood by the window, trying to remember where the key was, and the bird stayed inside the room, hanging by the side of the wall, and you knew you were watched. I was inside, sitting in the dark, and we allowed the years to take all it was for us to see, and lived carefully with me inside, and you behind the window.
We sit in a cafe, order tea, I have mine black, you ask for sugar and milk, and I try to remember how you mouth tasted the last time we kissed, and try to remember you scent. You are shorter now, life has had a way with you, and I am even smaller. There is a cool arrogance about my standing, the way I deny you any space, I guess hearts remember what mind forgets. I lit a cigarette, offering you one, you hesitate for a moment, and then you take one too. I lit it for you as I look inside your brown eyes, I see the glow of the match in your iris is, you inhale and allow the smoke to sip in, somehow I wish I could.
She had to go away, she had to find her way, and she was afraid she would get lost, and I let her to trace a map on my skin. She never knew how close she was to the reality of my living, how I had trusted her. It's amazing how the beauty become ordinary when there's no attachment. boorish, as beautiful as her limbs looked, it was boorish, I could not reach her through her sex, no matter how deep I was inside her, I could not reach her, and she closed her eyes as she reached the climax, there, right there, there was an opening, where the unconscious mind is vulnerable and is exposed, and she closed her eyes, and I drifted away.
There was a certain joy in solace of losing her. loneliness shined on my skin, and the melancholy writer that lived in me celebrated in joy. He had me again all to himself.
Sit across from me and allow me to touch you, allow me in, like a lazy hours of a misty summer afternoon, and I will tell you of rain, of my soaked desires, of the joy within the heights I dare, but you have to cross the calendars, and tell me you belong to me, and I breath in you a reality. Oh, spaces, the little parcels we occupy within our existence, walk with me in a bare foot summer , walk with me in the first snow, walk with me amongst the red brown dried leafs and the cold breeze of the autumn, and I will fin you the spring. I will share the last glass of the old wine with you and taste you tongue with all the fervor of a new begriming, pray in me, call me, stand on the top of the tallest peaks and call me, somehow I will hear you, somehow.
Lets read the book again, trust yourself, its you I am calling........... yes , me, the keeper.
Posted by Idinraha at November 23, 2005 05:33 PM