lunes, 3 de diciembre de 2012

Future Memory 1

I would get there the night before.
Your flight arrives early next day, just before dawn. 
I'd have rented a car so I could drive down to Keflavik to meet you.
I would arrive just as your plane landed,
Wait while you picked up your bag. 

I'd hold you for a long time.
My heart thumping, not quite believing
That I'm finally standing here with you,
After wanting to for so long.

We'd drive northeast.
Looking at each other frequently,
Not saying much. Just smiling and touching.
I can't help but stroke your face as we drive through the dark.
You make your little noises because you're nervous and excited.
I pull over by that Viking place in Hafnarfjoder still 11km from Reykjavik,
Because I can't wait any longer to kiss you.
I reach over and we hold each other’s faces with our fingers
As our lips meet, then part as the tips of our tongues touch
And then... time.

Our mouths meet.
I am overwhelmed in the moment.
We kiss for a long time, little touches.
We drive on after a while.

In the hotel I carry your bags to our room,
I have bought some food, in case you are hungry after the journey.
Bananas and natural yogurt and brown sugar.
I make coffee while you prepare breakfast.
We eat, spooning the yogurt and fruit into each other’s mouths, now and then. 

You are tired after the long flight, through the night.
We undress and climb into bed,
Leaving the curtains open to let in the sunrise.
You drift off to sleep as the yellow fills the room,
You are folded in me, in my arms,
Your head on my shoulder.
You feel loved and safe and warm.
Like a bird in a nest.

The first future memory was written off the cuff, as most of my twitter writing is, during a text conversation with a friend. Shortly afterwards as I read it back I realised that although it was something that I wanted to happen it was imaginary, a fantasy. However it felt real, it felt like something that was possible, that could actually happen in a few weeks and resonate backwards through time, like a memory from the future, rather than of the past. So I wrote another, set in a different city. Another meeting, another possibility, another memory from further in the future. The idea took shape from there, to explore a relationship between two people as different iterations of meetings in different cities as the years go by, alternative takes on each meeting. So the project has begun and with some work and luck and inspiration and the cooperation of my various muses there will be a book next year, or the year after. Perhaps. Or perhaps not. It all depends.


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