LXXIV | Some Apology
❦
Keep it simple,
I imagine Asher telling me.
So I write a short note:
Please meet me
at your favourite place.
Slide it under her closed door
after my bath.
I squat there
staring at the uneven scratches
covering the bottom half
of the door.
Then I wait
on the cold metal bench
(it’s even colder at night)
for Tammie.
There’s no sound of crickets.
There would be
if this is a real garden.
Only a faint thrum.
(Generator.)
Faint whispering.
(Shifting leaves.)
I hear bedroom doors closing
behind me.
The rowan trees are dark.
Unlit.
The chessboard flowers
nearby glow though.
Someone’s stuck a lightstick
in the ground
next to it.
(Or maybe it was there
all along.)
I don’t come here
at night.
It’s cold.
I’m starting to shiver.
I’m starting to think
Tammie won’t coming.
My throat fills with tissue quickly
until I want to retch.
I close my eyes,
wet my mouth.
Swallow.
No one comes.
The lights dim.
A nurse is dispatched to walk me
to my room.
She stays outside,
closes the door behind me.
She’ll be there
all night.
I switch on the light.
Something smells familiar.
Tammie’s
sitting
on my bed.
Her grey eyes meet mine.
You’re late.
Make me wait so long.
I start to tell her
that I’m the one
who has been waiting.
Then,
I understand.
This
is my favourite place.
How can it be so easy?
She wraps her arms
around me.
I kneel down anyway—
and pleasure her
until her moans tell me
I’m redeemed.
Anything, I tell her.
Tell me to do anything.
I’ll do it.
Her eyes gleam
in the bright LED light.
Anything?
Panic
fills my stomach
with tissue.
But I nod.
Anything.
Stay away from me.
❦
I wake up
and Tammie’s next to me.
I can’t help it.
I smile.
Hug her tighter.
Banishing last night
from my mind.
It was painful,
what she did to me
with just one finger.
Embarrassing.
It still hurts when I move.
I’m too sore
to pass motion
for a week.
But
this is the way it should be.
I deserve it.
She held my hand
when we slept after that.
I hold her closer.
The pain reminds me
of my sins.
Of her benevolence.
I’ll treasure every moment
we have
from now on.
Moonlight Sonata wakes me up
a second time.
Tammie gets out of bed half-asleep,
the sour smell
of her breath
comforting me,
making me get up
to stay close to her.
I hold her hand.
As we leave the room
together,
I recognise the ruined blue paintbrush
in a puddle of brown and red gunk
by the bed.
The door closes behind us
before I can
think more about it.
❦
