Tuesday, July 31, 2012

august eve

forgive me, she said.


it was all she could think to say when the wheels stopped turning.  a cool breeze licked her skin, nearly immediately.  the absolution, the purification of her regret was mechanical and instant.  it was a reply so regular and expected that she scarcely noticed, though she shivered involuntarily in the steamy evening wash.

she mounted the steps to her apartment nursing a familiar and pliant dullness.  the sun dipped below the horizon as her left foot ascended the graduation and a raindrop ball of sweat spilled down her cheek as she inserted the key in the door and stepped inside.  the ambient heat gushed inside in a fierce aspiration as she pulled the door close.

she walked to the small kitchenette, set the wine on the counter.  the fingers of her left hand moved in a dancer's arc to the drawer beside the range.  she retrieved the corkscrew and wrestled the cork from the bottle's spout.

she practically swallowed the first glass into her guts and inhaled deeply.  a strange expression crept over her face.  it was something like a quiet smile, though far less assured.

her thoughts screamed in rills and dirges.  what a round of chance to awake in the sunset of her fortieth year in the oven-hot warmth of august eve.  she poured another glass, lifted her macbook from the pack on the floor and stepped back outside to the faded corduroy chair on the porch.

august eve simmered in the air and her heart.  each passing year spilled an exponentially callous layer of  mental goo over the remembered bed of youth.  the sacred day of observance filled the perfect valley in common social activity with a singular moment of redress.  it was the perfect moment for a self-proclaimed holy day, since no other common observance intervened.  it was also ideal because it fell deep in the sweltering dismal texas dog days of hopelessness.  it was not the hottest day, but it marked, if only superficially, the transition to a more decent mode of decay.

she pulled a cigarette from a yellow cardboard box, lit it easily, and settled back heavily in the dingy grey fabric.  she blew smoke into the gathering darkness as the sweat on her back soaked around her arms.

she placed the digital sliver on her lap, pried open the lid and opened an image of a page.  she clicked open a tab in the window and started the evening's soundtrack: august and everything after.  as the gentle melody rose out of the silver plane, she began to unload her confession.

i am the one who loves you.  i am the one who won't ever let you go.  i am the one aghast, still, at what passed so swiftly, violently, happily, into the avalanche of heat and moment and feeling and yearning and never-to-be-repeated glory of now.  i am that one who chases you with a desperation comparable only to that of the drowning one panicked for a taste of oxygen.  i see your gawky smiles, your careless tristes.  i feel the spring wind of your bottomless heart wagering all of your potential on the chance that the blossoming moment will exceed the previous in utter delight.  i am that one who stands here, stalwart and unflinching in the undeniable truth, that everything after will swallow you up and disappear.  i am age herself, man-handled, trussed, and heaved lifelessly, time after time, into the fruit of misunderstanding.  it is a little silly perhaps, to call me goddess, though if ever such a title sought a worthy object, she is this heart of mine.

for i am the first kiss.  i am the first terror of love unrequited.  i am the sooner odyssey to paradise.  i am the perfect top-down trollop in the artery of history.  i am the most perfect moment of ease in this round of breath.  i am the moment of clarity with a bathtub that you fled.  i am the knock at the door in the crystal fog.  i am the deathly somber surrender to retreat to compulsion.  i am every effort of resistance forthwith.  i am the endless rounds of quarters in the camper.  i am the circle of siblings, arched around the shed in the east texas pines.  i am that family of friends in the oil-fields.  i am your chasing after glory in the large apple.  i am the unspeakably romantic sequence of events that followed.  i am the love of your life that remains.  i am all of the trail of hacking at meaningfulness.  i am forever your affection for every face that ever passed before your eyes.  i am your brokenness.   i am every single ounce of your kindness. i am your wish to die there, twenty-two, lonely and complete. 

she lifted her fingers from the keys.  she dragged from the lit cigarette on her lips and glanced up at the dim stars filling the black.  she let the moment submerge her completely.

forgive me, she said.

a cool wind enveloped and kissed her.

i will walk along these hillsides
in the summer
'neath the sunshine
i am feathered by the moonlight
falling down on me



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