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October 16, 2010 - 2:11 p.m.
and so, the story should start, two days ago. instead, the end comes first. And it must be the end. Because after his performance tonight, he will be on a plane to NYC, then to who-knows-where, then back to Brussels, then perhaps his home, New Zealand. Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was his euro-scarf, perhaps it was the gap between his teeth (i have always been weak for that) or a body toned by ten years or more of pushing and positioning himself right up against the edge and manerisms that seemed familiar in their grace, articulate limbs, a ripped set of abs, or the incredible beauty of his movement on the stage. An ideal, walking into my life at the perfect moment, when I was poised to notice it, with unassuming boyish charm and a profession that made me admire him straight away. He could not have been more perfect in his timing, my imagination extending itself into his space, where i first saw him, intimately vulnerable, it left little to the imagination, but everything to mine and from there it was only a matter of pushing the stretch to the doorway of a hotel, safe in company, to the tapping of computer keys, to the shaking of knees, terrified of what this might mean. You shook my insides, with doubt i did not know what to make of myself, except to know that you were in and on my mind and more, what's more, I wanted to extend the invitation it is a scenario far to outrageous to be planned. Did you come all the way around the world to take my breath away on stage and ease your hands around my body, and did you really find yourself, a dancer, and not gay, taking off my bra with one hand, in the expensive sheets of a luxury hotel's king size bed, under the pensive touch of a 12 year vintage lesbian? If it had to be anyone, it only makes sense that it was you. and this encounter, which could have felt sterile and clinical, detached in it's tentative, experimental nature... instead felt charged and live-wired, so present, inside my head, but so much in my body I was too curious to resist 'No one's gonna know what's in my mind tonight' it was a world of reversals, day was night, with those drapes closed, I broke me into pieces, your hands carefully fitting me back together some semblance of myself, wholly together with my own secret. Weightless and wound tight. Stronger with these cracks because I know that they are there, now.
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