I wake up with my mind caught in a lasso. emotions and then nostalgia …. destroy me…. and no idea why….
if I could, I would admit ….
and say
the only grip I have ….tossed out through the cyber channels and volleyed like a whisper ….from the language of our codes —that very threadbare faith …. I am truly heard…. and it is not imagined
….thank you
sea air fills my head
as the voices drift up from the courtyard ….
I say to ambush ….
voices linger across the currency ….strategies and plans spoken and hatched….
someone else says,
surprise attack….
Only I don’t want him to go. I don’t want him to go chasing some evil demon….don’t want him to—fear—tempting fate ….and watching the sea as it drugs the mind with its hypnotic rhythm; how it pulls and tugs….you back…. on its currents; ever forward its encroachment onto the temporal earth; pulling away to sink and drown its sandy flesh, leaving behind skeletal shells that fossilize
….we are all fossils, dust
but we are more than this,
more, much more, than flesh,
more
even
than ashes
and dust….
more,
much more too….
than de roet
he says it is ‘to heal….’
I forget myself…. the limitations of the human mind that conflict within but it is so easy to give in to
How I have searched and longed for, in truth
—why I have avoided anyone getting too close
this bond. It cannot be broken. not even by lifetimes. Still it keeps me
like that first moment when I first saw him…. It was something in just his walk
I recognized….
the way he moved ….
how his hair caught on the breeze ….the hut with the deep fire pit; the beat of metal against metal; the symphony
“Tell me why you stay,” he says pressing himself deeply within ….as thought and words are like tedious knots; booby traps, confusing and causing any ability to process to malfunction
“Tell me,” he says and withholds himself and his motions
But dream takes over, and I watch the shadows on the wall…. and listen to the pounding of the piano keys ….his opera that plays in my mind as I press to him mimicking his motions —and with it, it naturally comes, this urgent need wrap around him, to press to hard to him as I say,
“no,” as I do this
but he does not move at all
“….please….” pressing to him
Only he repeats,
“tell me why you stay,” still holding back
“Please….” I say, and whisper, “don’t go with the others—promise you will stay here, I don’t trust the others!”
“Stay where—here? The others, duva?”
“Yes, please! don’t make me wait….”
he says,
“wait for what?”
“The sun, you said! Don’t make me wait!”
“Duva….?” he says with a jab in a whisper, sinking deep, pressing
“don’t leave…. promise me! Don’t leave here alone, please!” but all thoughts dissolve, overcome by the fluidity of his moves
I hardly hear him say,
“no, never again, duva! I promise —not, never again….”
but I do hear ….as it echoes in the morning in my mind
…..upon waking
It is hours later in the master suite, when I am alone, that I think of what Stina said …. leaving me to brood over our conversation on the beach earlier
she had left my company to return to the others with this parting remark —said almost like an absent-minded afterthought—
“it must be quite curious for you wondering about what Retnuh said— the Will …. and your sister….”
It is the calculated inflection of her words ….and then the well timed pause between
“I know if it were me I would want to get my hands on any information that could be dug up on her—any idea who would have access to unlimited personal information?” and then she says, “Quid pro quo …..” and walks away
So I sit there for a long while staring into the waves not realizing how long until I feel the chill of sundown blow from the water. and get up and walk back
only then to find that I get lost in thought again, watching the water from the balcony off the master suite, going over all recent events and conversations with everyone …. and hear the muffled voices from the courtyard drift up from the secret spy meeting outside…. Jörn’s particular, distinctive dry voice often dominating the conversation, with loud responses from the others
“Do I wait for him?” I say to the empty room, he never said ….how long the meeting would be. nor if he would be leaving soon after …. I think now, and wonder again about the conversation he meant to have with me. And start to feel sleepy ….as I think over and over his words…. analyzing his words for a clue
but I go in circles and have to give up and go to fill the marble deep tub with water and sit on the ledge and watch it as I wait wait for it to fill high enough, and then, sunk deep into the water and shut my mind to everything
When I get out to dry off, I notice the towel has a monogram of initials and an insignia…. I feel my face suddenly burn when I recognize both …. design and initials —on all— of the silver gray towels…. Wtf….
I don’t even have to remind myself that they match the engraving on the platinum pendant I’ve been wearing all year since he gave it to me. I know the design well….
How did I not notice this on the towels until now?
I text Gerald from the edge of the massive, Spanish, pirate ship bed
<what reason do two souls meet again?>
and press send. And as I do I find I am magnetically drawn to stare out into that vast deep blue sea and the waves that hypnotize my mind
why do two souls meet again….? Are we destined to repeat our past mistakes? Is he still that pirate in the guise of a spy? do things always repeat…. until you get it right? …. but maybe not everyone gets to find out
After a blank space of time of being somewhere I know not where, re-entering the present reality finds me staring at the phone …. like it’s some kind of alien…. when an alert sounds, as if it is from some space-age enterprise and, for a moment, I seem hovered between parallels of realities …. one foot in this world and another in that long forgotten land in that little hut they shared, and now, with the scent of him on the sheep hides. strangely, now, when worlds collide, I feel the overlap within my mind as it fills my head
A reply text comes from Gerald
he says:
<sometimes unfinished business is, in itself, a powerful reason>
<but how can it be resolved? I mean—because he was not there in time to save her?how can this wrong be made right?>
<but also to resolve. as your friend, I can be a bit blunt because you can be extremely obtuse so…. don’t pretend not to be aware of your issues of mistrust. your meeting now is no coincidence. what reason do two souls meet again? My ‘professional opinion’ would conclude —what was too quickly taken away, to have the second chance to love. to feel. and to heal.>
a hidden door to doorways
It was this queer chill tap upon the shoulder. I mean that day…. I think, at first, it was his walk…. of all things…. he had a strangely strong familiar aura about him …. it was as if I was drawn to stare; as if a magnetic field drew me to keenly focus upon him. I knew that walk before…. how often and how many times have I seen such an image emblazoned on my inner retina …. he moved easily within the faded dreams outline of ….. the pirate on the boat…. his every manner filled in the gaps of memory the dreams had not shown but now made the memory image stronger and more clear ….
And then it was his eyes; that haunting, wild beauty balanced between noble and savage
