introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- safe keeping -after the flight. - zero six one zero pound(like the automated attendant), 2001 i wrote this on the plane. i'm still...with you essentially. my heart never boarded the plane. my soul stayed with you. it will always be with you. and now, fresh from the yellow legal pad with the blue lines...... ~SAFE KEEPING~ i could still feel the haste of the feel of your lips brushing pulling tangling with mine in a semi-final mixing of the two of our beings as i walked down that square stainless carpeted trachea tube and boarded the belly of the monsterous bird slated to take me away from you. *** and the tears came and it occurred to me then, so simultaneously as i clammoured and apologized my way down the carpeted aisle between the rows of upholstered reclining tray table seats.... it occurred to me then why i could never be a flight attendant, so beautiful sporting slim-hipped frames mulling busily around me, me... with my lack of grace... but also, it occurred to me then, so simultaneously as i struggled to breathe in a normal gate how haste had been the way of our last hour together. and i felt like your mother: too worried and too high strung to notice that it was all going to be okay; that it had all already been worked out; that dinner was warm and on the table; that we'd made it to the gate on time. ***** but i'm stream of conciousness as i too often tend to be when the tears are streaming so freely down my damp contorted face for several dozen strangers to see, yes, me, clammouring-stammering down a too narrow aisle to the last row that i'd chosen: the one row left with the window. and i was blinded with the sting of the moment, with the largeness of the thing that had swallowed me inside it and separated me from you. ***** i watched you then, from the last row, from the second to last window after the kind fragile-framed attendant helped me to force my bag of unnecessary things into the space overhead.... after i'd collapsed into the tackily upholstered reclining tray table seat and let the compressed air of the belly of the monster fill my compressed lungs in a compressed and complicated necessary breath. ***** i watched you. two panes of glass between us, you with your thin-frame posture leaning against the thick clarity; your slender michaelangelo-beautiful leg propped up on something and only adding to your constantly-portrayed state of laid back laxness and quiet undestanding; of goodness and susupense with the sex appeal of a hollywood star who know's he's got the girl. -you- -you- -you- it was all i could do not to sob out loud. tears, gently streaming; fingers, absently palming the stone that i'd reached for wishing there was a way i could know if you saw me, too.... knowing that realisticly, you probably couldn't have but what was that? a wave? my mind trips and screams for you. my hands reach for you, delicatley running fingertips along plasticy-plexi-glass as if stroking it could somehow be your hand your-flesh your-body you. the air was rushing then in the belly of the shining bird. the beast that i had loved two days earlier now the creature i despise tonight. ***** and i'm spinning-spinning vertigo a dozen other ways it could have played out: i could have tried to find those souveniers that i was bringing home for them. i could've been more patient with the cell phone laden middle aged moron at the security check. i could've walked away a little slower. i could've stumbled. ***** but perfect timing is so serene and the procedure went as planned and we backed away, the saftey demonstration mere backdrop concerto for the production of tears wetting my fingertips and breasts through the thin feminine fabric of presentable clothes. ***** and i saw you turn back as you went to walk away and i clutched that stone in my moist fingertips so much harder than i ever squeeze your hand when we're sailing along and retirment rates along the highway, bumbling along with my balding darling old man companion with too much age in his hairline for the youth in his heart and his eyes... i know you're only twenty seven and i know you know i love you..... and i wanted so badly for you to feel that squeeze as we pulled away from the square stainless carpeted trachea tube jetway, the beast roaring and groaning its metallic growl.... ***** and we took off into a double time zone purple sunday sunset, the bird sailing dimming shadows along the tennessee ground below and i cant stop singing joni's line because its the only thing that makes sense: ...'never should have got on this flight tonight'... ***** but the bird, he's swallowed me whole and there is no turning back or escape at thirty five thousand feet and my soul is reaching into the nothingness of strangers wanting desperately to find you near and its tearing out my heart to try to rationalize with myself... getting hard to find the words to explain to myself that i'm leaving you there behind. ***** and the eastern standard time zone draws me into her folds again and i smile my time travel smile unstuck in time and dwelling in years to come spent with you and considering the love with which you've stroked my soul. ***** but i can still feel you on my lips the tangled hasty perfect joining of our two beings, our lips mixing well with each other... and its been an hour since the bird swallowed me whole and stole me from you and though it may feel like i'm gone for you completely, in the purple of our sunday seven-o-five parting, i've left a piece behind: i've left a piece with you for safe keeping. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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