I watch the day break into thin streaks of violet, like a wet on wet watercolour technique. It’s quite a commotion because the thin band of light purple transmutes into a red, then orange, then yellow and within moments all the colours of my past burst onto the blue sky canvas and seem to meld into one another, just as you seem to mesh into me.
I’m looking at the sunrise aurora through the glass window pane that looks to be rinsed from yesterday’s rainfall.
Yesterday when we had tea together when you’d propped your feet on my knees while inhaling the rich scents of charged dirt. Yesterday when it was still early evening and we had come to bed and never left it since.
We were hungry, weren’t we? Aren’t we always? You’d smiled and asked me and I’d nodded. Yes, we are.
We’d slept on and off, throughout the night. Waking up with a salacious itch each time a needful moan made out your throat; I’d felt your sleepy back and heard your approving sigh, letting my breath wander between the depressions of your urging dewy form, letting my desires listen to your longings until we wrestled with the need to draw words in air that only seemed to come out in shuddering gasps of crescendo that peaked in greed and names.
I’d watched the moon travel through the night, appear from behind that tree and disappear behind the terrace of the building opposite. I’d seen it reflect a pulse of blue on your face, sometimes on your lower back and I thought it a private game when it near echoed with gleaming stardust on my fingers each time they’d disappeared inside of you.
Hidden within you is my private light. You’d told me, and I’d wanted to say the same but I feared I’d only be repeating so I let these words play in my head for you over and over, each day.
The sun a bit harsher, glittering with warm luminosity now invades your bare mien which still glimmers with all that was us, coalesced in covetous incense cascading from your sleepy form.
A steady breath which indicates you’re still somewhere deep in sleep but then you silently stir, minute goosebumps dot your skin and you momentarily open your eyes to invite. Now I’m immersed in profound depths redolent of burning urgencies and a hidden hurt of an all-knowing incoming agony that makes me into a glutton for this thirsty moment that I wish I could add to the infinity of this universe.
I watch you step out of the shower. Towelling your limbs while smiling at the mirror, because you see my reflection and blow it a kiss. I watch myself pretending to smile back.
You’re now in the kitchen, and I see the sun has now swallowed all the colours from a few moments ago and faded the blueness of the sky into a near white with its summertime phosphorescence. I‘ve never liked the harshness of the sun, especially when it gets so bright, but it still only just morning and the day has just started.
I remember that time when I had a ‘vcr’ when I could fast forward some parts of a movie with the push of a button and put some on slo-mo. Usually it was the parts that I didn’t like on fast forward and the ones I loved watching on slo-mo, it’s still exactly the same in life when I want the good part on slow and the dull ones on forward. Did nothing really change? I ponder on that a minute when I hear you laying the table.
The crisp smell of delicious breakfast fills the house. You sometimes shimmer like a symbol for me, a beacon perhaps.
The food is just as it should be, just as you are. Divine.
You’re telling me about the extra food you’ve packed and kept for when I feel hungry again, you’re telling me how it’s almost time for you to leave.
I feel the residual heat of your kiss on my mouth, on my cheeks, on my forehead. I feel the slowly evaporating moist bead of your bedewed eyelashes near my ear.
The sun is high up, beating down on the asphalt, threatening to melt roads and roast all the people on it. I sincerely hope it does. I’d like to watch anything spontaneously combust into flames leaving a trail of ash right now.
Nothing feels right anymore. Everything out there is just as I’d left it.
Cars, pedestrians, speed bumps, dogs on leashes, small shops, the noises and a sudden whirr of electronic noises that are air conditioners coming to life.
I’ve been staring out the window for a while now. Leaning my forehead against the pane, watching the world go by without realizing it’s hot, that I’m sweating. The sun didn’t look like it budged but the cavity within my chest seemed to be collapsing and I let a small bout of shower ease me better to this day that was bound to be miserable.
I could smell you in the shower and stared at the steaming tiles and mirror for any hidden message, but there wasn’t.
The memories wanted to flood my head but I kept them at bay. Too precious to be wasted in idle thoughts. I’d need them for absolute lacklustre moments. I stood there standing, inhaling deeply until I’d absorbed all your lingering scents. How long had it been, I couldn’t say but the sun looked like it had moved just a little. The house still looked like someone had set it afire with light and heat but that didn’t bother me.
I emptied the kitchen of all the food you’d left for me and watched the dishes slowly dry, still feeling ravenous in a way I couldn’t quite understand.
The blank spaces left in the day didn’t want to be filled. I’d turn on some music but I wanted silence, I’ll watch some television only for the lack of anything better, and to keep the emptiness from collapsing over itself, drawing me in it.
The furniture drew shadows, the sun had receded and I’d gone through all the channels without really watching anything.
A sudden alertness punctured the desolation within and I raced back to the bed from this morning, which was cleanly made. I tore at it, opening up the blankets, mussing it about, like I was searching for something. Tossing the pillows, inhaling deeply I couldn’t find you. The abrupt sensation of having lost you tore through me but there was peace.
The bell was ringing, the sun had begun its descent. It looked like it was sliding away and someplace else the moon made itself visible. It was almost pale blue, a bit transparent, preparing its brightness with every second of the darkening sky. It looked a lot better last night, on you.
It was like a science fiction film. The sun and the moon in one sky.
The bell rang again.
I was smiling or maybe preparing a smile. I can’t say. I think I was elated because of the indelible absoluteness of the truth. Of living in this certainty and the verisimilitude of things as they were.
They jumped on me, little animals, cherished darlings, my sweet children. Away from me the weekend, followed by their mother, who cast a thin smile I knew as her smile, that had nothing hidden, devoid of charms and resolute in faith.
Yes, the weekend was fine; yes indeed I missed you all, oh, I ate this and that. No, there was nothing much to do.
The sentence that began after a comma. The life that began after a pause. The earth, after a spell in heaven.
