The very beginning of great love affairs define their entire arc. The first few days of a romance are the memorable ones, they are indicative of its' full span. Those are the days you hold onto when the weeks become months, the months become years, the sun heaves itself to the top of its' done and slides greasily down again. The moon appears and vanishes, a little more of her every night until she completes her stately entrance and then she turns her back on you and vanishes slowly into the distance until she is gone again. the stars rotate. orion stalks his prey east to west around the navy sky, his bow at the ready. you pay their toll with the love you saved for each other. as the great bodies travel you pay their fare from your souls until their passage through time has taken everything from you.
--
You realize your body is YOURS, that it belongs to you like a toy or a tool, that you can manipulate its' functions in any way you want, and that's the thing that sticks with you and marks you. You never lose that sense of power over your own biology. That's how we recognized each other, how we'll always recognize each other. I used to think the others knew me by that particular pallor in my skin, that special blue-green glow under the ivory surface of my body, or by my searching eyes, eyes they always share, eyes skipping across the faces in a room like flat rocks on the surface of a still pond. I'm starting to realize, though, that we could recognize in each other the same expression of disappointment, complete and pure, pure disappointment, the kind that comes from having gained the power of God, from playing with His creations and then realizing that his power is so easily attainable, that His magic is a trick anyone can perform. There is no mystery left to the body for us. We understand it. We know our very blood intimately. We have more than knowledge of our blood itself; we have the power to USE it, to change ourselves by changing it, to reach heights of bliss so pure we don't need food. We don't need sunshine. We don't need anything you mortals need. We have pulled our blood out of its' veins, mixed it with the molten fire we stole from God, and pushed it all back into our bodies to tour our hearts and brains and light us up with a peace and joy you can never imagine.
We have the power to manipulate our bodies beyond the boundaries of your existence, to push our selves into a world where happiness is unbounded of your existence. Death is meaningless. Life is meaningless. You are meaningless and so am I.
I have measured out my life in coffee spoons. I have poured my life from tiny envelopes of wax paper into the bowl of a spoon, mixed it with water, and boiled it over a candle flame. I have pulled blood from my veins, watched it mix with life, and sent it back. I have known and defeated God. Death is meaningless. Life is meaningless and so am I.
--
The teapot had been steaming steadily for some time now, though I stopped hearing it's whistle when I sat down. Steam poured onto the kitchen floor and filled the room slowly. It lapped over my legs and circled my waist, and was surrounding the edges of the table. It kept rising.
I woke in a heavily damp forest with the Nightmare Man's words booming from the trees around me.
"Trees don't dream. Trees have bark and the bark keeps them safe."
I raised my left arm in front of my eyes and saw the same woodgrain I'd studied on my kitchen table moments before stretching out under my skin.
"Trees don't dream. Trees can grow because they aren't afraid. Trees just grow."
I looked down from my height and saw my dog curled up in the grass next to where my bark met the grass below.
