eros, logos: Genesis

Friday, June 02, 2006

Genesis

Repost: from 10/14/05

Endings and beginnings, all to be written. They will be. More, very soon.

This is about my boyfriend, (--), that genesis.

We were best friends and we'd run across the grass after our seminar, we'd hide away in the pub. We talked about our lives. We talked about his boyfriend, we talked about my ex-girlfriend, we talked about my then-current lover. We talked about everything.
One night we kissed. Suddenly there we were, kissing, and there was no going back.
We couldn't even make it across the park, you laid me down on a bench, you got on your knees to taste me. Found me already wet for you. I couldn't stop you. I didn't want to. It was 9.30pm and there were certainly people who saw, I still think we were not arrested only because the filth were watching the surveillance tape and wanted it complete.

I made you stop, finally, I had to pull you by the hair, we staggered our way to our university, to our department, we couldnt wait even the ten minutes it would take to return to your flat.
On the seminar table then. You knelt again, opened me, kissed me.
I made you sit on the table later, in front of my usual seat.
I want you to remember I said. Every time we're in this room, i want you to look at me and remember this...

When we finally made it back to your flat I bit your shoulder so hard when i came, i didnt mean to, we weren't aware of it, and you had that bruise with you for more than a week. I was leaving the city and the country that day, I woke early, I didn't even leave you a note, no time. I left you sleeping in the bed that smelled like me, like us, like the river. You wrote me all month, the most beautiful letters I have ever received, and I wrote you. What is this thing that is happening to us? Each of us was with another, had thought we loved another..
But when we saw each other again, one month later, we knew there was no choice, none.

I will remember, I will treasure forever, the pubs and the clubs and the drugs and the tubs we shared together . . . we shared all of those, literally, in many places, many cities, several countries. I will remember, he will too. I will remember the places we went to, the several countries in which we made love that first summer, taking flight, transiting, running. We made love constantly, we could not get enough, we fucked against walls and on floors and on beds, in chairs and in tubs and in clubs and in pubs and in restaurant toilets, in libraries and outside them, against their old walls.
I left someone for him, and he left someone for me, and we ran, we left. We transited. 3 months, we ran, grad students can do this - - we burned so hot, the words and the sex both, we poured it all out and made our university and others pay for us, we did.
We made up topics on which to speak, we claimed papers on ideas not yet written--so good that they accepted, paid, invited, on the basis of 250 words only.

We made it up. We'd fuck insanely for days in some foriegn hotel room exploring each other and the unknown country, and then write together, finishing the writing and the fucking both at the last possible minute, your ideas mine all the same, you wrote whilst I was asleep and i wrote while you were, we could no longer tell where the genesis of an idea was, we were so intertwined that I would read my words on the page and think they were yours, you'd think your ideas were mine.

We would not stand still, we ran from everything, from others, we made frantic love standing up in a corner of the hagia sofia and in a crumbling room of the palace of knossos, and in other places too, we saw the oldest surviving road made by humans, we ran, we ran, we ran. We ran towards each other, we ran away from others, we ran together for that short and lovely time.

And I….I loved running, I loved him, I loved us. I loved him completely and as best I could and with every part of me, I cannot imagine ever loving another like this, and you loved me that way too, and then after our first year the clouds came, taking him, taking what he was, is, should be, could be.
The man I did love, and who loved me.
He's been taken away from me, and we've loved desperately through it for years more, but I cannot love him out of it, no-one can. No one can help him. It breaks my heart, smashes, shatters it.

but if love alone could have saved you, it would have, I've loved you so much.
So much.
I love you still.

This post, you will never read it.
It is for (--) though, it is my elegy, my aria.
To what was us. To him. As he once was, as we once were.

To what was. To what remains. To what now is.

You and I, together now, and now seperate.
-------------------------------------
No poem today. All the words are ours alone.

posted by O @ 22:57


2 Comments:
At 02 January, 2007, Gracie said… so beautiful O. At 07 February, 2009, Anonymous said… I was torn between starting at the present and working my way back, to satisfy my curiosity, or starting at the beginning to satisfy my need to know the background and why things are. The beginning finally won and I'm glad because you started so eloquently and with the heart x.
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