"What are you thinking?" She asked.
I shook my head, moving my gaze from the hypnotic glow of city lights and cars. I was always pensive lately - now that February was approaching again and we would be visiting Tulsa once more. My home there was like a nightmare, and I was scared I would start digressing, and curl like a dying leaf again if I stayed too long.
Alexis draped an arm around me. "Anxious about seeing your folks again?"
"It's not them..." I said softly, "It's everything else."
"In March you start promotion again..."
"It's been so long." I threw my cigarette out the window. "Will you come?"
"If you let me."
I smiled at her and we pressed our lips together. For a quick moment - we were something more than two people... A union. I never told her how much I thought about Annissa and how I missed her. I never brought her up unless asked. Ani was my secret to be kept. She was the advice I would never forget, and never share again. Our scenes unfolded in the red sky when I leaned out the window... when all I could remember were Tulsa's clear starry skies and the smell of pot all around us.
The memories were so fond.
When Alex slept I sang songs to her, and she didn't know it. My voice would land softly against her deaf ears. She looked so peaceful at night... so beautiful. It was easy to see how Zac fell in love with her. I wished he could see Theo... day and night I thought about that. Theo was the boy I called my son. It still seemed unreal to me that Zac was gone, sometimes.
I ran my fingers over my scars - they were the stamps of my past. Tay<3Ani was still raised on my arm... and still looked strong - as if it had been done yesterday. The people that didn't ask averted their eyes. Outsiders covered their eyes to my self-induced scar tissue - as if it were some dirty way of wearing my pain. People felt that seeing my pain was intrusive. Other's thought it was theirs to dissect and grope at.. wondering what happened and why. Their eyes roved over my seared flash. What, Why, How? They'd say. My silent gray stare told them everything they needed to know.
When I went out I didn't stay out for long. I smoked vanilla cigarettes at bars with Alex on our Saturday free of Theo. She was nineteen - but the bartender carded me, not her. She thought it was funny. We drove home drunk and I ate her out in the bathtub with the hot water running over our bodies.
At nights I got lonely and pensive again, thinking of Ani and her poems. When it came to mind... I told Alex e.e. cummings poems before bedtime.
if everything happens that can't be done
(and anything's righter
than books
could plan)
the stupidest teacher will almost guess
(with a run
skip
around we go yes)
there's nothing as something as one
one hasn't a why or because or although
(and buds know better
than books
don't grow)
one's anything old being everything new
(with a what
which
around we come who)
one's everyanything so
so world is a leaf so tree is a bough
(and birds sing sweeter
than books
tell how)
so here is away and so your is a my
(with a down
up
around again fly)
forever was never till now
now i love you and you love me
(and books are shuter
than books
can be)
and deep in the high that does nothing but fall
(with a shout
each
around we go all)
there's somebody calling who's we
we're anything brighter than even the sun
(we're everything greater
than books
might mean)
we're everyanything more than believe
(with a spin
leap
alive we're alive)
we're wonderful one times one
She laughed at my pauses and asked, "Where'd you learn that? Is that more e.e. cummings?"
I had nearly memorized all of Ani's poetry books in my days at L.A. Psychiatric, and they sat under my bed with the pages ruffled around the edges from wear. I remembered vividly reciting the poetry on acid and all of the sounds and meanings would start to come together. So much made sense in those days... now all I could hear were mixed up words and Alex laughing.
"Why do you laugh?" I asked.
"What's serious?"
"This is." I said. "This is serious... I am serious."
"What do you want?"
"For you to remember this moment, these moments..."
"What is this about, honey?"
"It's not about anything... I just wish you'd sit back and appreciate these things sometimes. We might not always have them forever. I might not be around forever..."
"You planning on leaving, baby?" Her hands ran up and down my chest.
"No, it's not that..." Lips were against my neck. "Ani, come on..."
"Is that what this is about?"
"What?"
"That girl..."
"She has a name." I muttered, feeling disrespected.
"So do I..."
"Alex..."
"I'm not going to fight this fight with you. I'll never be who you want me to be. I'll never be her."
I felt a strong pang of guilt, which brought tears to my eyes. "It's not like that."
"But it is, Taylor." She said, softly. "I know it. You... you just can't expect me to be like her. I do it too, sometimes. I understand... but... I'm never going to be like her... Whatever she was like."
"I know." I said, weakly.
"Don't cry." Her fingers wiped hot tears off my cheeks. "You feel too much."
"That's the problem..." I said. "I'm always hurting."
"I don't want you to hurt anymore." Alex said softly in my ear.
"I don't want to hurt anymore, either."
She placed her hand on my chest. "I'm sorry, then. For laughing."
"I'm sorry for trying to shape you into something you're not."
"I forgive you." She sighed softly, and whispered. "Tell me the poem you told her before she died, again. The one that makes you cry."
"Why that one?"
"It's beautiful. You sound beautiful when you say it. I want... I want to hear you say it to me."
I shifted slightly, "Okay." I whispered. "I'll tell it for you."
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we'll leave it far and far away-
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and-
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart-
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I'll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
She was crying when I finished. "Do you love me, like that?"
"I love you. I love you like that."
"Then keep me safe, forever. Please."
She curled up against me, and I held her safe in my arms. I swore that that night I felt Zac around us, and I knew he was watching, still. He brought us comfort when we brought Theo to the gravesite. I think he was waiting for us... that brisk February morning in front of the grave covered in flowers. Alex felt it too. In a second he was gone... and so were we. We ran from Tulsa as fast as we could, and once again returned to our home, our broken city. Again, I stared into the red skies of the under world, and she took drags off of my cigarettes. Every night we held each other tight.
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poem (c) e.e. cummings ("if everything happens that can't be done," and "you are tired")