Movie Played in Reverse.
We were walking down the highway. We all were. Everyone. Every dreaming soul. This was that road... that road that takes you in & takes you out. We kept to our own lanes--those that were just arriving and heading towards. Those that had already been and were heading back. Keeping to our lanes. I was moving towards. I passed him at the crossroads. He was heading... back. But he had paused for a moment. He was standing there, talking to someone and smoking a cigarette. I didn't notice the shadow he was talking to so much as the way his fingers curled around the smoke and the way the smoke curled around him and the way his mouth... just was.
We'd been talking Sandman. As he walked out the door Friday I watched his trench coat swirl around him in waves and thought... the movie thing? Remember? I would cast you as the Sandman. & the image has stuck.
I watched him talk and smoke and the way his mouth moved and the whole of my existence in this place settled into his gaze as his eyes fell on mine and I fell fully into his vision... we were stretched out on the bed and I can feel his legs and the soft blue jeans he is wearing and the way they press against my own and his fingers are so long and so soft as they move across my face and I kiss him. I kiss him and he cradles me with his fingers and then the whole of both of his hands and then the whole of his body and then being. We are. In this moment we just are. And it's so soft. It's forever soft and I press against it. I press myself into it. I press into the moment and into him and I...
I am on the highway and I'm walking and the air is that Spring mix of cool that only feels warm because it's been so cold for so long and there are people walking with me and around me and I'm aware of them but only vaguely. Mostly I am just alone and I'm walking and I can feel the air on my skin and I smell the woods on either side of this road where there should be cars but aren't and I see and feel... everything. The pocks in the concrete and the smell of the dirt that is moist and freshly exposed along the side and the trees and piles of wet leaves in the woods and the sky. The sky opens up and it's perfectly blue and cloudless and out of all this and all the people that I know are there but don't really see... he is there. We are moving through this world, together and at this moment our paths have crossed. I am walking towards a moment I have yet to find and he is walking away from it--already knowing the taste and the feel and the way of it... time is fluid. It does its own thing. Exists on its own plane, and in its own way. His eyes slide in my direction and he appears, suddenly hyper-real to me. The sun outlines his body and I find his whole form, suddenly solid and here... It is delicious. He is beautiful. God. He is so beautiful. And I keep walking. I walk toward and he has stopped and I walk past but in that moment... in that moment when we are so close my breath catches in my throat. I smell him and I slip...
There are two houses, his and my own and they are not next to each other but phsyically very far away. Yet there is a room... a room that is in my own house and in his house as well and we find each other here. He presses me against the wall. Dusk hushes the air around us. It's so quiet and we are shadows in this place and because we are shadows, when he presses me to the wall--he pushes into me. Inside me. I feel him, I feel his fingers merge with my skin as he trails them down my arms. I feel his chest press against mine and then into it and when he kisses me I lose myself inside him. I feel us... I feel my self--separate from him. My lips, his lips. His fingers twining with my own and yet... there are no boundaries. Where he stops, where I begin... that sensation is one I hold only because I am used to existing inside a body and here... here, I do not. And he holds me up. He holds me up against and within him and we kiss. We kiss forever. For ever. I slip...
We fall onto one another on a bed and I feel more solid now. The sun shines through the windows and we are no longer in that between place, but in... We are in his place. We have crossed over and I press against his hand. All my awareness is folded up in his palm and the length of his fingers. I can see his nails. They are neatly trimmed. I can see his cuticles and the folds of his knuckles and the lines on his palm and I suddenly know why the future and the past show themselves there. Life flows along those lines. His whole life is there. Mine is too, for this moment, flowing along his lines, mixing with his story. For this time. His skin is dark and soft and his smell is intoxicating. Ancient and exotic. And while I remain lost in his hands, his lips find mine and my body arches both into and away from his. My body and his body and we are stretched out in this forever place and I have never felt so easy and so relaxed and so close to perfection and yet... my eyes do not leave his hands. My eyes do not stray from his fingers even when his mouth presses against my own, first with new urgency and then with complete aggression and there is hunger here. Aching, brutal hunger tendered by a certain soft knowing and I need him so strongly it hurts. I suddenly need him everywhere. I am filled with it and yet... my eyes do not leave his hands. He holds me entirely inside the curve and cup of his palm. He owns me. In this moment he owns me and I sigh. All things leave me on exhalation and all things enter me when I breathe in... And he enters me.
I am walking. I am walking down a ribbon of highway and it's Spring. The sky is perfectly blue and cloudless and the air is warm but cool. I see this and I see it all. I know there are others walking with me. Many. But they are shadows. I see him standing at the crossroads. The sun has drawn itself around him and his image is burned into me. He is talking to someone else but as I pass his eyes move into mine.
He whispers. Concurrence. There are endings. There are beginnings. There are moments that live in the folds of forever and always and now. He whispers inside my head and he speaks it out loud. I hear his voice across several layers of awareness. It echoes through me and I feel the solidity beneath my feet and I feel our shadows press into one another and I feel the bed sheets beneath my skin and his fingers on my face. I feel his mouth against mine. I feel forever in this place. I feel it all. I feel for ever.
I feel it all. And then I have passed him. I have moved beyond the crossroads and I'm walking but I can still hear him inside me... whispering. I can still feel him touching me... devouring. I can still feel him. That moment was ours. We owned it. We will always own it. It will always be its own present.