Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Mating

They meet at the metro platform. He looks good, light on his toes, a zany smile in his eyes. They kiss. Smack! like pre-teens in training for the real stuff. Hardly a Doisneau kiss, you know, the French kiss template of all French kisses: Oceanic. On the street, against indifferent human traffic, two lovers in a movement of passion, freeze in oblivion to everything else but the pressing heat between them.

She’s never kissed like that, certainly not in public since they’ve both agreed it’s rather exhibitionistic, and if you feel it you don’t need to display it for everyone else, do you – do you? She tried to tell him once that some people are so crazily enraptured it just gurgles out of them (lovelust on the brim), powerless as they are to contain it, let alone stop it. He tells her she looks gloomy. How observant, she says to herself. Two minutes and this already.
The inner comment brings down her mood a notch, and it must have shown (she looked gloomy) since he eyes her quizzically. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he says. “I know, I know. I want to,” she persists.

They go to the park, nearby – a two-block throw from there, which appears as a forest, with a winding castle in the background peeking through. She didn’t grow up with castles in the real plane, looming by. Her notion of it came from fairy tales and morphed adaptations of reinvented ones. But the image latched on anyway, accounting for the persistent, antiquated hold of certain romantic scenarios still in place.

Like she might turn into a princess, dress flowing, skin pearly, flushed and capable of mesmerizing any creature who pads along. Vines might slowly creep onto and along her limbs and inner chambers, holding her steady. Ohhh. She erases torture chambers from her mind.
Imbuing herself instead as possessing that certain glow, she crisscrosses trails leading up and around Medieval walls, still beckoning through dreams passed on by generations gone by.

That he might suddenly transform into a squirrel, snail, awallow, or maybe (hopefully) a snake is also a possibility for you never know quite what might happen. For transformations is the easiest of tricks. Especially when one is the princess with the whole of forest spells on her side.

1 comment:

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