(Currently Untitled, from And Cheese, 2014)
They came to be out of some well that rest somewhere far and forgotten in my mind. They are the ghosts of beings not buried well, that haven't found rest. They haunt me, even when it is day and the sun shines into my window making it too hot to sleep. I don't give them names, just feelings, and those feelings are something I haven't felt in a long time.
L is in my arms, close enough that we exchange heat with our bodies. Her neck rubs my cheek and I start nibbling her there. She is silent, she doesn't stop me, to say what has gotten over me. I know it is a dream but my body doesn't wake. This is our first intimate moment and perhaps the last.
I think it is how chance seems to be too intentional. How the planets seem to align themselves and part of Earth where this particular moment, this "chance" encounter happens suddenly goes into the shadow of a total solar eclipse. Like lightning striking twice, like the secession of two miracles makes it a saint, and how you just feel connected to someone before you know what it is that makes that someone that someone. Like the eye before blink, before the I is I, there are just two beings, souls if I may, that haven't arrived at one point with their ego but rather with thing that comes before. That self meets that self and in that moment there isn't an I nor a her, but one. Ideas, thoughts, and feelings all just flow as we become breathless. And so we just dance. And we leave our friends behind.