Leg Lake

I am more than your judgements of me, that voice inside you think no one hears but you, the lie is in your eyes for I hear you clearly, the words flowing from your stare, your brush of hair, even the angle of your teeth informs me of the truth behind your eyes that you disguise in your language with me as we walk together, arms touching as we weave crowds, our voices raise and lower depending on crying children or a passing bus, a hobo wanders forward, you flee from his stench, his hands imploring you to give, you press your chest into my shoulder in your escape, I give the man a dollar while the voice in my head tells me to punch his smelly face for scaring you so, but I fear myself, and I fear if you hear the voice inside myself you would find me as repulsive as the hobo, you would shrink away never to return, never to show the face I kiss when we make love, no, you would be done with me, and I wouldn’t blame you, for I can barely live with myself, not the self I give you when we make love, or even the self I give you now as we cross the boulevard holding hands, no, I mean the self contained within behind all forms of outside sharing, the little man who chirps away at my life, the one who I can never drown out because he is me, a more real me than the me I give you, the sadist, the masochist, he is racist and a misogynist, he loves smoking but hates smokers, he yells at me to stay awake for hours while I try to sleep, and he whispers me back to sleep when I try to wake, and now, he interprets you to me, as only he can, because I know you have a little man inside yourself too, that you try to contain from the world as I do with mine, but they are uncovering each other, they pull our pieces under microscopes and analyze separately, each coming to original conclusions, each voicing arguments as to why your yes means no and your no means yes, for no matter how I undress you there will always be a piece of you robed in thick wool with no flesh for my eyes, and even when you say I do, as you are doing now, as I am on one knee beside the lake, our lake really, for we rowed across on our first date and you ate figs from my fingers, yes, even now, my fiance, even now I will never undress that piece of you, for as much as my man uncovers there will be yet ever more for his scrutiny, because life is about endless beginnings, and we will have our human eternity, until our bodies fail, and even then, who knows, we may yet continue on, our souls hurtling through space, together but still apart, our little men still hidden in our immaterial, the essence of us still never sharing, but I take a small comfort in knowing the most I’ve shared is with you, as we sit together beside the water, your ring flashing in sunlight, the ducks walking under our bench, yes, it’s with you who understands me better than anyone, or maybe not, maybe I am more honest with the bank teller, my credit history laid out for her, maybe the sad smile I shared with her revealed a more honest me to her, and the way her eyes shifted told my little man she sympathized with the cost of the ring I bought you, but the ring looks handsome on your hand in my lap as I massage your fingers one by one, threading the ring, loose on the pinky, tight on the thumb, finding your just right finger, your I’m-a-fiance-now finger, I rather like the sound of that, the implied ownership, we belong to each other now, we are supposed to be transparent now, or maybe this make us more reserved as we have more to lose now that we are investing in ourselves, maybe we’ll have shareholders meetings where we discuss our concerns with powerpoint presentations over coffee and donuts, I don’t know what happens next, I just wonder now, as the sun sets into the lake casting red flames over the water, and you cry from the sheer joy of the days events, not sobs, just warm tears down your handsome face that I wipe away with the back of my fingers, it is now I wonder how we stay together from here, now that you step away from the lake and walk back towards the boulevard, and I follow behind gauging how far away you are from me and how I may never know, for is the distance material or immaterial, I just know that you are there and I am here so I follow.