To an unknown lover

I wanted to write last night. But could find no coherence. Perhaps now, in the afternoon light.

I went on a strange whirlwind trip. I spent nights with someone who avoided me by day. Who would not even acknowledge my presence when she woke up. I can’t help but know that somewhere I was to blame.

We went for a morning walk together. And amid the arecanut trees, the pepper vines, the numerous perfectly complete spiderwebs, I walked away from her to discover a muddy lake, half-hidden froglets, some sense of self.

I guess we never recovered from that.

--------------------------------------------

I met a man who sells saris by day and writes bad poetry by night. We discussed new age heal-your-inner-child techniques and Buddhist practices, over curd rice and sambar. I didn’t like his attitude and avoided him. We made up on email, and now I’m filled with regret. How do I explain this? Is it some deep cosmic connection or just loneliness that’s making me feel this way?

---------------------------------------------

I took a long walk in the dark night rain with a friend miserable because of love. What could I say to him, I who have constantly failed at it. Or become so easily bored. But his unhappiness made me unhappy, and I wish I could make him see that all he needed to do was change his mind. We walked together in silent sorrow.

----------------------------------------------

I agreed last night to pose for a photographer friend. Partly because I didn’t want to seem hard to get, partly because… I want to step outside myself.

-----------------------------------------------

To an unknown lover

How I wish I could lay with you – naked, some distance apart, our heads at opposite ends. We would stare at each other, smiles playing on our lips. How I long to feel non-judgement, compassion for my faults, an understanding of why they exist, a love strong enough to encompass them.

And then we would draw closer to feel the slight heat our bodies give out. To smell each other, to lightly touch.

I see us now, the light golden light of before has turned darker. We lie facing each other. Your hand touches my hair, runs down my face.

I know if it’s you, you will know that I’m crying as I write this.