Wednesday, October 21, 2009

24- Part II

Remember, walking in the sand 
Remember, walking hand in hand 
Remember, the night was so exciting 
Remember, her smile was so inviting 
Remember, then she touched my cheek 
Remember, with her fingertips 
Remember, softly 
Softly we met with a kiss ...Remember, Aerosmith (originally the Shangri- Las)


I don't need her words to remind me of those days.  I remember.  I also remember others times in other places with other people, those tastes now though, are not so sweet.  Days pass. Moments slip away.

What would we see if we could replay the moments we hold on too? The heat?  The passion?  The urgency?

Was that ecstasy in her eyes or detachment? Replay.

Does the excuses uttered after explain it all away? Replay.

Why did it end that way? Replay

What would happen if we replayed our memory for another?  Would it melt and shrivel like a piece of celluloid stuck in front of the bulb of an old time movie projector or would it spark a memory of their own?

What do you see?  What do you feel?  What do you taste and smell?

What do I?

What do I know?  What do I know about anyone?

*   *   *

Outside the cars can be heard on the distant freeway, the tires murmuring over the asphalt, the engines humming along.  The muffled sounds seep through the doorwall becoming a static sort of white noise I mistake for silence.  The shades are drawn.  The room is bathed in familiar shades of gray.  Worn out pillows surround me.

My mind wanders.  Consciousness comes and goes.  Occasionally I'll stretch the pain out of the tendons in my feet and turn my head the other way.  Vocalizing silently in conversations of the mind. The reality that I am alone physically, never pushed totally beyond the fringes of feeling.

Time passes.  The shadows shift then disappear, engulfed in the darkness that is night.  The freeway sounds peak and wane.  Light. I fight being drawn back into the world.  I long for numb exhaustion like an addict for his fix.

My phone vibrates.  A familiar voice reminds me how fortunate I am to be receiving a message. I doubt the truth in the statement but read the text none the less.   The spell is broken.