There is still some vodka in the bottle at daybreak and violins playing softly in the background while two muscular black men stand naked at the edge of a wishing well urinating down its black hole.
I am walking through a meadow of dry yellow flowers. Long blades tickle my ankles. A cool breeze blows through them draping their large round sunflower heads. The wind circles around fluttering my hair. A deer runs up ahead. Blue sky looms above with dancing white cotton ball clouds. I can not see the golden rainbow, but a white house appears over the hillside resting alone amongst painted meadow crumbs. Two giant guardian pine trees drape their weeping branches over the roof top cutting out the sunlight. I listen to the snapping of twigs. They crumble to dust.
I am approaching the house.
A dirt rusted green 1940’s Chevy truck sinks into the earth with broken windows and flat tires. Someone has driven up the driveway recently. Two tire tracks bend over the blades of yellow dead grass along what once was a gravel strip. A crow perches on a wire.
To the left of the front door a tree of needles chimes twinkling sunlight in silver shards. They clatter together in a pleasant sound of crystal raindrops. The windows are dark empty holes, frames for a ghost’s photograph. I walk in through the front door, big white and heavy, solid brass handle with a skeleton key lock.
Glass shards crunch under my feet. There is a dark hallway with a glowing door at the other end, bright white light leeks around the cracks cutting sharp lines through the shadows. I walk forward and reach the door. I open it. Yellow flower peddles flow past me falling through the air like giant soft snowflakes. They brush against my cheeks. I step forward and notice I have been naked wearing a heavy medallion around my neck.
She floats there, in the center of the room, alone and by herself amongst her descending flower peddles. The walls grow pristine white dream. Her lower back arches supported by transparent air, shoulder blades relaxing back, one leg extending past the other half pivoted at the knee and folded closer to her body. Her toes pointed, her arms draping comfortably along her beautiful horizontal arched form. She is naked. Gravity does not affect the silk of her hair waving weightlessly. She floats over a calm pool of water.
I pass through the curtain of descending pedals and reach her. She softly inclines and we’re suddenly face-to-face, lips breathing on lips. Our hands meet in sensual vibration, tingling as smooth friction of skin glides each finger into its place opposite the partner in dance. I touch her lips softly so that our noses feel gentle next to each other. We are still and one while yellow peddles drape enveloping in the white clean light sinking deep into warm silk embrace.
She pulls her lips back, “You are the Beaten Down Rolling Man, and I have been waiting for you.” And our arms rap around each other’s naked bodies. My fingers find her spine and climb her lower back, the smooth inlet curve gliding up firmly to shoulder blades pulling in closer and tighter reaching the base of her neck. Our mouths are open and inviting each other to enter but neither of us want to. And it is slow, and it is lingering. And I forget. This moment is all that is.
Her stomach is warm against mine and I feel her beating heart in my own chest through her breasts. I see her body with my open palms and fingertips, smooth, delicate and through her hair.
Our tongues taste each other.
She digs her pink fingernails in my flesh. It opens and bleeds. The pain. The pleasure. I feel blood running down my back. I can hear it drip on the glowing floor and pool. I tilt her head back without permission and by surprise I bite her neck. And my teeth, antagonizing, her claws, sinking into skin, we float merging into one moving organism feeling each other’s thoughts. Our legs rap knotted in grip and she is open. She is allowing.
(from ‘The Journal’)
