lynch

 

satori

The challenge after walking through the garden, is returning. The mystics knew about this and they searched for ways to enter or to exit at their will.

When I hear L. Cohen's song, 'Night Comes On,' I imagine he is feeling this way too.

And the night comes on
It's very calm
I want to cross over, I want to go home
But she says, "Go back, go back to the World"

if i write i won't forget

 and those were the reasons and that was new york..

Woke up this morning with Leonard Cohen. He stays with me all day.

today I'm keeping us alive by writing. 

Some of the things you've said are about both of us needing to get a little older, or was it about getting wiser.

Some of the things you said were that now it is finished but then later, we were bound to meet again. 

Some of the things you say make sense and sometimes not.

Before you left you talked about a poet. Mayakovskiy was it. You said perhaps he liked at times to torture himself. That he stood one night beside the bedroom door, and listened to the woman whom he loved in bed with someone else. I understand now you experience this scene as torture. I understand now the complexity and nonsense of our shared experience.

After you've left you send a poem that you like. I try to read it before sleeping but too many words are difficult in Russian. I consider telling you that I need help to understand, but then I could also use a dictionary, and I should be more reserved about reaching out for you.

I don't know what to call it really. We shared only a brief time together but then what is time. There were so many secrets and closed doors. But somehow through it all I felt some kind of thing I only know to recognize as loving, the seeds forming in our soiled sheets. 

In another space perhaps I've shared a life with you. We had a son or daughter, who had my eyes and your laughter echoed after you.

scenarios

 Our goodbye was kind of spiritual. That is how you told me that you wanted it to be. When we have sex, it's with an urgency and hunger. We are animals, I'm pawing through your hair, hurling the hilt of my palms at your chest, pushing and fierce. When we have sex theres no concern for who said what or what it meant. When we have sex I do not wonder if you lied to me or not-

I say you can have anything you want but I didn't give this to us. You kneel on the bed naked with your palms pressed, bowing your head when we are finished. It's a funny gesture but you are sincere, saying, 'thank you,' half smiling. I'm laughing too. You say, that it's like tantra. and then ask me, if I understand. 

I do understand some things. I understand what I mean saying, as you wish, months at a time. How your eyes allow me access briefly. I understand it doesn't matter in certain moments like this, which parts were true, or whether there was one or many others. 

When you enter my apartment, I am wearing Sara's black silk robe. You ask me to wait for you naked and I say I've done my best. I cleaned my body, I have vacuumed all the floors for you. 

You tell me you'll be leaving soon. Someplace to be alone. You'd rather not say where you're going. You call it 'rehab' and then ask me if I want to stay here, in New York. I'm staying for awhile but not forever. You mention moving, but then tell me that you love this city too. Something about a second home here.

You say I'm beautiful and I believe you.

Later I imagine us, some years from now. You are wealthy, relatively famous. Perhaps you've married someone else or perhaps not. You're coming back to see me and it's like we've never been apart. 

I too, would like to go away somewhere. To read, write, to feel sand, heat, power, water rushing through. That energy of G-d, or life.

In your absence I'm afraid the words won't come so easily, if I stay here in this city too long, I might get lost too. But I know the source is elsewhere.

Oh, take this longing from my tongue
Whatever useless things these hands have done

Just take this longing from my tongue
All the lonely things my hands have done

i tried to leave you

 at least a thousand times.

The bed is kind of narrow, but my arms are open wide.