Monday, January 30, 2006

silent moments

Monday, January 30, 2006
... continued ...

my mona lisa man stood near the door inside the small terminal building. a single shoulder bag sat on the floor, at his feet. he wore a blue jacket over his crisp white shirt … 4-bar epaulets and pilot’s wings glowed in the streaming midday sun. my heart sat in my throat like a stone, skipping a beat when we touched in an embrace. his lips gently brushed my cheek … the hush of his breath in my hair … a flash of goosebumps - mine … and his hands traced the curves of my body, like they had visited these places before.

his touch stirred in me a deep, desperate longing … longing that lurks in the dark recesses of a shattered heart. a longing i thought i could deny, when i thought i’d never see my mona lisa man again. now … this longing haunted me … a restless ghost, enticing me … beckoning me … teasing me. his voice - exotic, european - enveloped me like warm, rich chocolate … creamy, sweet, smooth … so tantalizing, leaving me thirst for more … more … and … more … my mouth felt hot and dry and desire burned in my lips …

we three rode through the small mediterranean town, to his lonely, highrise apartment … we talked about regret, estrangement, and the dark despair of grieving. he spoke tenderly of his wife’s death from cancer three months ago, his self-imposed estrangement from his family during her final days and disownment by his son and daughter for failing to witness his wife draw her last breath.

my husband remained silent, the kind of silent that comes from feeling choked, as i solemnly recounted the details of our youngest son’s untimely demise … the words tumbled from my lips, sailing on a stream of regret, longing and cavernous loneliness as i recalled a loss that could only be described as ‘plucked away’ … as in a large, bright and deeply-rooted feather deliberately plucked from a bird’s plumage …

i did not speak of my husband’s inability and unwillingness to conceive of parenting anything ever again, his oppressive despair at this crushing blow, or the bitter taste of what-could’ve-been that resided in his kisses and lingered on his tongue … all of these things lurked in the lines and angles of his face and lived in the undulations of his voice. i did not speak of the oppresive sorrow … grief over the loss of our youngest son … that extinguished the passion which once fired our marriage. or the desperate emptiness i felt as i wallowed in its charred remains …

i think these resided in our tentative physical contact: the way each flinched reflexively when touched by the other, as though stung. i contemplated all these things i failed to speak of, as we silently disembarked the taxi and waited for the lift … in these moments, grief settled upon us all like flour settles on damp skin …

tension lived in all the silent moments that followed … heavy … weighty … oppressive. i pondered silently now that i understood the intimate familiarity, the enchantment, the captivation … the magnetism of the connection i had forged in that utility closet with my mona lisa man.

… to be continued …

2 comments:

Infinitesimal said...

You know, you are really good. Like so good I need to save this for dessert good. OK well, I will not be able to keep up with 5 different blogs, but I will try.

I read Mona Lisa Man when it was under your other blog.

Have you always been this intense?

I will keep coming back, which blog is your favorite of the ones you do?

mad malva blue said...

hi there ... are u infinitesimal or vb today? lol ...

yes ... i have always been this intense ...arghh ... and yeah ... *blush* ... i'm pretty proud of this piece ... i surprised myself ... my favourite ... hmmm welll that depends on what mood i'm in and how inspired/creative i feel ... every day i write ... somethin's gotta come out or i'll go krazy ...

if its a poem ... then it goes in the poetry blog (whisperfromtheforestfloor), stories will go in the story (nymph-o-mania) and clever lines or phrases i catch here and there i keep in another blog (rainingwhispers) ...etc ... i don't know if i'll always do the poetry and story one every day ... some days i may not be inspired (working saps all my creative spirit away ... it takes a day to recover lol) ... but the photo blog (whispering1000wurdz) and the graffitti (still the main one) one i do each day ... i hafta say i like the photo blog the best - its the easiest post to make and i luv pretty pictures.

i'm still blogging at wordpress, but i just felt like having separate blogs for each 'genre' ...

thanx for visiting ... and glad you like my writing ...