The edge of real

I give what I know to be a sweet smile.

Please
He drags the sugar away from his body. I sweeten myself further. When he arrives, so to
does my desire, like a crow to it's nest, and I am stunned with it's harsh call. here must be
others, drinking tea with him, in other meridians. When he goes my desire must fly, lest I
lie in decay wishing for death until his long awaited return, only to see the ghost of !ity
!ass his eyes.
"ut here he is and his own brilliant smile breaks me in two again. he cold wind of sea
cliffs returns and sets a holocaust on my doubt, and once again I am in the sunset of s!ring.
he faint aroma of bloom enters every faculty. #riving u! the highway with him, windows
rolled down. Immersed in a moment. Would that I could make today a moment like those.
$o, your letter said you were engaged then%
How it stings when he lays his smirk in the !itch of his voice. I can only nod once, like a
nun, then drink my communion to the world. I see myself crucified in the cu!& a frightened
reflection. His insight courses through me. How we give ourselves away' (nd why% What
do we leave ourselves with% We only give u! what we ho!e to regain. "ut comfort is
anathema to ecstasy, and !assion runs from routine. his kind of destiny damns us, not to
fire, but a te!id end. I wish I had his courage.
His bravery is thoughtless. He takes to the sea of life like a fearless sailor. )othing could
anchor him, he wouldn't be coerced or im!ressed. While I flounder in the waves, he steers,
and charts his direction, and I am to scared to call for rescue for I fear his destination. $o
he'll steer around me. (gain.
He stirs his coffee im!atiently. I need to slow this down, there is only the two of us. his
table, these chairs. When we are together it is only us. I live in the !leasure of memories
when we loved. I thought I knew love, but then he knew me. $omething ine*!licable
ha!!ened when I saw him first. ( stirring in my soul. ( kin beyond flesh. +ife became
easy. I had learnt who I was. Had I forgotten all that now%
His hands are full of heat. I reach out and hold them.
I've missed you, you've been gone so long.
( year, I wasn't sure if you still thought about me.
Wild. his man that sent a brand into my heart a year ago. +eaving. I will always go. I can
never stay. hose words I will never forget. I only forget him to salvage some remnant of
my !unished soul, stretched to breaking, left desolate. He should know how he ruins. How
he breaks me. How could I be so easily ensnared by this hunter of lust. I can only s,uee-e
his hands tighter.
#id you think about me%
.f course, he says. "ut when... in the bed of some Italian beauty, or a /reek goddess% I
wonder who is waiting for him to return. I recall waking with the thought of him in tangled
sheets, before my desire flew.
0ou should have come with me
$alt crusted on his tongue. 1y old wound is s!lit o!en and it waits eagerly.
I did ask you
rue anguish starts within the dee!est !art of you. "eyond flesh and blood, beneath even
the soul. It slithers u! through all that you are like a ser!ent, rending a!art both s!irit and
body until it has gorged itself. When the anguish is done it s!its you out again. "ut you are
changed, !arts of you are gone, never to return.
)obody knows me like him. How I wish he could take me from choice. ear me from this
!lace. "ut my reasons satisfy him. He is weak like that. He won't fight for me. He will take
flight again. We are destined for division. 2elief surges through my frame. I can't be
e*!ected to do his work. .rder screams at the image of my form bathed in his chaos. What
can I do but stay. his I will make my last goodbye. 1y hands return to my tea.
$o where are you going now%
He mentions a !lace, but it doesn't ring in the memory of my mind. It doesn't matter where
he goes. he !laces he goes are meaningless to me. I try to invent a cure, but the truth, ah
the truth, it strikes me like a cane. I see it swinging every time I imagine his intervention. It
smashes dreams like a thunderbolt.
he moments !ass in still motion.
( single solitary tear forces its way from his eye. It moves down onto his cheekbone then
down over his 3aw before disa!!earing. It is gone then, not to be re!laced. He stares into
his now em!ty cu!. I can only close my mouth as if I was the sole witness to a violent
murder, unable to s!eak or move out of fear.
I smile within myself at that second of realisation. I am battered and wounded, and here he
is ill. 4nable to do what we both desire. iny flakes of memory return to com!lete a long
abandoned !u--le. he man is tra!!ed in his own !rison. His conce!tion of what he thinks
life should be tethers him, and I 3ust the same. .nly by cutting the cord can we begin to
breathe. +ife wont start until we do.
I will be the one.
I stand u! and the scene of the coffee sho! whirls around me, !eo!le talking, arguing,
drinking and eating. ( glass smashes in the kitchen. he rain outside s!atters the window
and I feel the chill as more !eo!le enter to esca!e the cold outside. He is looking at me
now, staring, waiting.
I take his cold hand in mine.
(nd we go.