Rain and Silk

From and For Deus-Ex-Macchina-Flags
Por mi Amiga; and for Martino& Twiggy, an epiphany:
Write knowing the forms but become formless.
This tip I got from a kung-fu movie starring Jet Li and Jackie Chan. Yeah.
CNF is a beautiful chameleon. Yeah, Boy George.
May 18, 2008 8:38 am

On the 15^th of May there is once more a quietness to my soul

in this light gray afternoon---

from rain, from the notes played by Silk.

I try to remember moments but moments were all we all had.

Perhaps it was all those moments that I needed to tell---

to make blanks, make space, make breaths.

I think of finally making love to you.

I feel that it is time.

Another moment to remember.

Another time to tell.

I wonder then if we will remember as we tell

to make blanks,

make space,

make breaths for forever.

You know whom you love and you love me.

Even in the beginning.

There is a quietness to my soul on this light gray afternoon---

from rain, from the notes made by Silk.

I feel something in me disappear,

I feel a space,

not hollow, just blank.

I would like to sleep naked with you.

I do not want to move.

I would like to be this still, alone, and with you.

My heart is quiet.

It has all become still.

All that I have to tell, I really only wanted to tell you.

I remember you said, “Let them all destroy themselves. I will keep my silence.”

Even then, then, I knew that you only thought of yourself.

You never even thought that by keeping your silence you were also destroying her.

And you said you loved her.

It takes courage to speak a lie to protect the truth.

A lie is always a truth.

Then you lied to me, too.

Once you found out that I almost fell in love with your friend.

I wrote of it on my first journal and read it to you.

He was kind to me and it was easy to love him, too.

It’s easy to love kindness.

You had asked him about it,

about how he felt at 7:00 in the morning in his house in White Plains.

You were angry.

He had said, “It’s all her. I do not feel that way.”

You were angry.

You told me what he said.

I was angry, too.

But I kept my silence.

Two years later I burned that journal.

Then I told you the truth.

You said, less angry, more sad, “I know. But I was angry because you were protecting him with your silence and he dared to deny how he felt about you. He left you to face me and that alone.”

I said, “He was my friend and I was protecting your friendship with him.”

You are still friends.

I listen to the stillness, to Silk---

Outside the window, the world has become white-gray.

The rain has come and become outside:

I cannot see anything but the rain.

The rain has shown itself, has become is, love.

Love is never a fantasy---

never all sweetness.

It is this----

tears, breaks, edges, screams, blanks---

and light gray afternoons from rain, from silk,

that bring a quietness to the soul.

The door opens.

Of course it was…

“Hi,” I smiled at you, “I missed you.”