an era to love
February 13, 2012
This song always works, makes me remember the feeling of asking for what I wanted and receiving you. How you came to my doorstep in the rain because I called you. I had to. Telephone and e-mail and the other thing. The one with too many ex-girlfriends’ pictures before I knew how jealous they would make me.
In the moments between your hands, your kisses, your voice whose echo reverberates through all the waters and tissues of me, I recall you: your feet at my doorstep. The room you entered a closet, I hadn’t told you to walk around the side of the house. Had probably been too nervous. Because it was you.
You who I had somehow loved since the first glance. You smiled at me, you say, do I even remember that? I just stared. My psychic’s eyes looking hard into your soul. I needed to see what was there. I had never liked anyone with long hair before. You and I, both wearing all black, we who rarely do. Bright purples and greens more our style.
I was too weak to drive myself to Eastside Arts that night, I had had to ask someone to pick me up. Had entered the room quietly in clacking black heels, trying to tiptoe. We were late. I had to stand against the wall. Not far from you. Within a few steps, maybe.
What did I see that made me look twice? I must have recognized you.
From elsewhere.
Elsewhen.
Cradle of my muscled heart, somehow I measure myself against your desire. Caressed by so many men’s eyes, even their hands when they can make it look appropriate, I still look for a certain starvation in you. That’s how it should feel to not taste me, to not swallow me almost brutally, as you do. I want you hungry for me. It’s what I wait for, to see if you love as I love.
Unlike the song. I can’t put you on repeat. Your silence doesn’t fascinate me, not really. Neither does your patience, waiting until you are so desired that you are needed. Because I need. I desire. Can’t forget the little words, the pieces of me I can only see when I hear you, speak to you.
Voice of my voice. Sex of my sex. The song makes it real. Outside of time. Distance and separation, what other lovers crave. Your presence such that your absence crushes me. The way your passion does. I want to be awake and asleep with you at once. The way we are together and apart. Maddening. Life and death simultaneous and one. What an era to love.
© 2012 Tahminah Zaman
