Big Dump

Fit

Words with double meaning, words with double meaning.

He’s walking too fast, I’m a pace behind, wondering if that’s my speed or our anatomical differences.

We are on the bridge of some kind and he gazes at the city, at the river, at the statues on the other side, stretching his neck, arms floating in the air gracefully – “graaaacefully”- the word flies around in my head, and I imagine I’m a lizard, coming out of the shade to dry my skin on the sun.

Only there’s no sun, there’s only his form – walking a bit too fast, and feline, and I scratch my head and look the same way, just to see what he is looking at – maybe the way he controls his bouncy step would transport somehow to me, through this triangle we create with our lines of vision.

Graaaacefully – that’s how he walks toward me and puts his head next to mine – gracefully – and his lips curl, and his thin shoulders, and his eyes – and this is all him, makes me double over, makes me put my knees to my chest because looking at him, because seeing the bones of his hands, because feeling the drops of his rare sweat is breaking me down, atom-by-atom, stacking me in the whole different way, the right way – I hope, because that way I would have something to cope with him.

I lag behind while he is at it – looking things over and his facial expression – it is almost as if he is indifferent, almost as if those grim eyes of his are only meant for the river. I stop and grip the rail, staring down, wishing he’d disappear from my line of vision, but turns out he was listening to my footsteps.

He is not going away at all, on the contrary, he walks toward me, those sinking steps, as if he is walking on the cotton candy instead of pavement, and he stands next to me, his fingers next to mine on the railing and he stares at something.

And I think – this is good, I’ll burn my house for him, with all my clothes and all my notes, because this – well this is more than anything I’d ever create, think of or imagine. This – the folds of his jeans and shades on his t-shirt, this – is something worth losing your mind, going into a fit, cracking open your skull.

I grind my teeth, straining my jaw, because I’m about to burst, no – I’m about to turn into liquid and seep into the ground, become an empty skin sac, because it is intolerable to stand next to him, look at the same thing as him, and it is completely unbearable when he touches me, so I jerk my hand away and hug myself.

He wouldn’t have it though, he takes my hand again, wraps it in his own hands and puts it to his face, kissing my palm and keeping it in a cage, closing his eyes.

And this something from his lips, some small bug or animal, it crawls through my hand, into my elbow and then slips onto my shoulder, settles in my ribcage and spreads its limbs in each direction, taking residence.

I look at him and I’m possessed, demonized, I’m penetrated, unraveled, defied and conquered, taken over, completely and utterly, him filling every nook and cranny.