i stare across the distance in my hushed preoccupation as the common excuses run across my forehead breaching emotion … wearing nothing but interest and a veiled attraction to every word that comes out of this boy’s too perfectly shaped mouth and the words that fail to fall deaf on my ears … and it is not just because i like him, it is because unfortunately i have not had this sensitivity to response since vancouver and also (in case one wanted further explanation) i am ovulating for the first time in 3 years because birth control is no longer needed since i moved southwest and 3 hours away from another forcibly forgotten past … so the excuses run this marathon i am too stimulated mentally and physically to breath in rhythmically … and that is normally … as my years of mental self-defensive training prescribes … and i am starving in this area for whatever reason … beyond the realm of telepathy or self-denial to know … and you say to me to my simultaneous pain and pleasure of such words, “People just walk away. They don’t usually pay attention to that, but you did. You do,” with that stare of sincere appreciation for my existance and that innocent intention which never fails to refute my usual cynicism of such comments. It is how you say it, not what you say… human connection through intangibles too rarely reaches out for me not to notice and yearn for this understanding without walls, this openness and discovery of humans without pretense … and for so many reasons I am beyond the realm of accepting inevitablilty … “but you KNEW I was gay, Annika …” the imagined potentiality of starved sex and intellectual hunger lets my supposedly idiot-proof logic rest awhile under the tree of knowledge so i can frolick in this garden of eden and possibility for just a minute …
Logic awakens only half an eyelid, and directs the chorus of ecstatic hormones to a somewhat reasonable argument, as soberly unconvincing as enlightenment on acid: everyone’s a little gay … how could one not be? some people are just so beautiful, how could you not want to open their orange and banana peeling emotions? How could you not make them react so violently with a fingertip or two? How could you not desire to share completely and utterly? i never did understand exclusivity of sexual experience and never did accept personal limitations …
“You going to hang out with me again soon?”
“You know we’re both too busy.”
I smile and nod to the reality … that this would all be just a discrepancy of space and time differences I only wish …