i cannot disappoint you - cover

Walking back to Leiden Centraal

Walking back to Leiden Centraal
past midnight down the empty main street
angled, bricked, wide enough for all the feet
the bicycles, the scooters, the shopping
Just light enough this early in the morning
knowing we wouldn’t make the 12:08 bus back to the hotel
and then in the distance ahead we heard a flock of bicyclists
and the light Dutch chattering they made
as they fluttered past us,
their words were animated and utter nonsense to us,
but we heard them as the perfect chirps
and calls of birds we knew
and knew we couldn’t understand
and knowing that not knowing the language
Was what made the moment so perfect

That is the memory I want to hold onto
the spontaneous metaphor
and you by my side with your dead tired feet
me with a swollen lip and you with a cold
our bellies full of pasta and chocolate

open

it is that you are willing to believe your parachute will open
that you need to jump out of the plane
that the ground will be solid
and i will be there with you
because you know you are already floating
through the sky
you feel me tethered to your back
you know we have pulled the ripcord
and when you look up
you see the parachute streaming up out of the pack
and the air hasn't caught it yet
hasn't opened it up yet
and pulled us back into the sky
but you know that it will
and you are looking up at the thin streamer of fabric
like you look up into my eyes
when i hold you in my arms
and even if there were no air in the sky
the parachute would open
just from you looking at it that way.

holding you this morning

you cried on my shoulder
and our hearts beat at each other
like prisoners in a slave ship
down in the hold
in tiny cramped quarters
strong people from different tribes
with different languages
triyng to synchronize their words
to learn each others tongue
in the darkness
and the tears
planning the rebellion
for the next time
they would be brought up
on deck
for exercise
the next time
they would be dancing.

letter 8.26.04

i hope this email finds you in better spirits than the last. lying here on the beach in the cayman islands, while relaxing, is at the same time dreadfully boring without your presence. the small brown women rubbing suntan lotion on my body are pleasant enough, but i have become so hopelessly spoiled by the overwhelming catharsis of your touch, that they may as well be mongrels tearing at my flesh. the drinks, while cool enough, have absolutely no effect on my thirst. i long for just one sweet kiss from your lips to quench my desires, and cannot wait to return home to your arms. i count the days we spend apart, cutting a small notch into the arm of my beach chaise with the corkscrew the waitress left behind, and i have also decorated the slats of the seat with tiny hearts containing our initials. if i remain here much longer, i fear this chaise will be embroidered completely with my thoughts of you, and i will have to pay for it and bring it home to give to you as proof of how completely and desperately i have been missing you.

suffering unbearably,
charles

email 8.10.2004

i awoke from a 3/4's sleep this morning around 4am to realize i had been caressing and attempting to seduce my extra pillow.
it was the moment when i realized it did not have a head that it, in actuality, was NOT you and i was immediately chagrined, and once again amazed at the deep resonance of your presence that remained even in your absence.