'Sometimes,' he confesses, not for the first time, 'you confuse
I turn to him, away from the window and the grey sky held in
place there. He is lying askew upon the rough floor. His shirt
unbuttoned and twisted around him, his pants at his ankles. One
shoe is lost in the room. His eyes are blue and clear and he is
watching me because it is something he likes to do.
'Do you want a world without mystery?' I ask him. And he laughs.
His laugh changes the space around me for a moment. I feel it
close and taut along my skin. And for just a moment I consider
that I could stay and the entire world might focus into a single
shape and he would hold me.
His laugh changes the way I think for a moment. I consider
arranging the furniture around it into the shape of a nice warm
room at the center of an inviting house. I could choose the
wallpaper and the curtains to match the texture of his laugh. I
could find the colors which mimicked the quality of his caress.
A room around the laugh, a house around the room, a quaint
village around the house.
His laugh is a different place to settle. Like a stone at the
bottom of a fast moving stream. A location which I might share.
He touches my arm. And for an instant I don't consider the
window, the blue grey sky, the door ajar.
I have already vanished. And one day his fingers will push into
the folds of my clothes and find that I am gone.