Back to the Story in Hand

May 10, 03:52 AM
“Did you see me? I was dancing for you. I’ve been awake all night. I was screaming in my pillow. I was certain someone would hear me and come to my rescue. But it’s the strangest thing, I’m now knowing. No one wants to save me. No one wants to save any body but it’s own. Most die before coming close. Baby, tell me your watching. I want your eyes on my skin. I don’t want anyone else. Look, I’m taking off my disguise. I don’t want to be misunderstood. I want you to see everything that I am. I think that you do. I think I’m falling in love with my love reflected through you. You’re growing restless, aren’t you? It’s okay. Don’t get frustrated. The sensation is fucking incredible if you let it be exactly what it is. Your body wants your attention. Your soul is calling out for you. You wont be created for one more second. You want to make what happens next. You want to do it with your own two hands. You want your own ten toes moving toward nothing known. You don’t know where I am. But you will if you move.” She is standing in the doorway of our kitchen. The pups are seated at her feet. All six eyes are peering up at me innocently. They all want my attention. They all want to be seen. My love is impatient and dramatic in every move she makes. The entire earth is her stage, and her performance is perfect in its eloquent display of clumsy distractions. She sees a butterfly and screams. Her exclamations resound in time and follow my body through every room in the house. Her lust for light is weighted and lying on my skin. I want to stand beside her. I want to sit at her feet. I want my head on her knees. I want time to become her body. I want to listen to her read. I want her stories! I want her to create my body begging for more, before I’ve swallowed what is already given. She’s dripping down my chin. “Yes baby, I see you. I have been given this story so that I could become you. To reflect you perfectly, as you have always been, to see you is to be seen. Copycat baby, your love is my equal, your body can become anything. There is nothing, but time. I’m expecting you. Get up! Move! Don’t think, just fucking move. It doesn’t matter what you think you have or who you think you are. Don’t speak; write. I don’t care if you don’t speak your own language yet. Just scream when you’re hurting! I will come running! Love isn’t what you think. It should never be feared. It should be intuition running free with a child’s disposition. Wanting, aching, crying, telling it, as the heart demands it must be. Explaining nothing. Only moving. You don’t have to think so much. If I am what you’ve created, the words wont add up to anything. You can say any word you want, in the whole wide world. I’ll respond the same. I love you. I am waiting for any means necessary to open communication. I want your truth. I want our story to begin. The first line could literally be anything.” She takes a step toward me and trips. “Anything? Look, buster, this isn’t a fucking playground. This is the real world! And in a reality as sick as this, everybody is properly guarded and fully grown, shoved into their respectable function, and turned on the kids to force obedience. This is some scary shit and you know it! Don’t look at me like that! I know you haven’t forgotten. You don’t forget anything. You remember. This is everything to you. I know, I listen; I have been sitting on this stupid couch listening to every fucking word that comes out of your mouth. I’ve copied and rearranged it, pinned it on a board in perfect sequence and waited for a logical explanation. I needed to know that is was myself. I needed to be the object of your affection. I don’t know how you’re seeing me. I can feel it too, but I haven’t stepped foot into the kitchen yet. When I introduced myself, I didn’t look at you. When I said goodbye, I was apologizing. Sunglasses are the perfect disguises in any occasion. Makes the soul unrecognizable. My eyes refuse to explain why I cant live without you. I don’t want the details. None of these calculations are necessary. I stare at myself and see the love I have for you spilling out. Your voice sits on my skin in silence. I can’t fall asleep without thinking. Why must I conduct these experiments! It’s so simple. I love you. This world is burning itself from the inside out. She’s so tired. I can’t fight this anymore. I can’t watch them suffer. How do you do it? Where is this freedom? Hide me! I want to get out. I want to be by your side.” I let her fall into my arms. I saw it coming. She’s almost always falling. Its like everything unnaturally created is always in her way. Like it was never supposed to be there to begin with. Like she was supposed to have the ultimate say in what could exist outside of her flesh in motion. It’s like she’s always known everything. Like she already knows how to get out. “Think, baby, you don’t need me to guide you, you’ve already witnessed freedom. You’ve already seen me. It’s too late. You know exactly what I taste like.”