How did we not let us kiss?
We trust each other.
We respect each other.
And we talk too much.
You'll be reading this tomorrow night. I'll find a way to get it to you. In the meantime, I'm planning a dazzlement, and I hope all this will be ancient history, surplanted with some marvelous doings of the day.
Some say love is fantastic.
I don't know fantastic, I know you.
Love is Mary.
O'erflood of my heart.
Joy. Warmth. Tenderness.
Life. I know your purpose.
Now.
That I love you.
I am,
Your Sam
CHAPTER 28
Sunday evening
My most precious love, Sam:
What mystery! To share all that I have, then to find I have more than that with which I started! How marvelous is this love! Or, my love, is it only you? Would it be this way with someone other? Though I may wonder about that it's really irrelevant, isn't it? Does it matter as long as there is unity in our supreme trinity: you, me and love? Minus one minus life.
How is this wondrousness come to me? Somehow I feel I don't deserve the marvel. I must confess I used to be envious when I've heard the words: --Oh! Mary! I'm in love! Or, when I saw a pair announce strictly by their air that they were lovers. Or, even love's simulation on camera; read from a page; heard on a tape. I'm quite aware at this moment, real or imaginative, none compare to this love of ours. How it has completely changed my world, though everything else remains the same. My routine remains static day by day in every way. I see the same people, I perform the same tasks, I function perfunctorily at the same humdrum chores. Yet, there is a rainbow that runs through my heart and mind! As if the showers of my life have gone behind me with only eloquent sun before me translating splendor and exuberance, and reverence, and poetry, and concupiscence, and a library of dictums into one word, one thought, one action: Love! Love! Love! No subtle seasoning is this to my world. All is the same and all different. I think of you every waking hour, dream of you when darkness falls for how better can I consider the possessor of my soul? And if anticipation heightens the experience how volatile will be our consummation? Especially after a day like today! Having you before me and not a sliver of a delicious taste of you. Not a clasp, not the slightest slip of sensation from finger to flesh. Then, I thought, incorrectly, we would make up tomorrow for what we missed today. But that can't be, I realized. Gone leaves no vacancies for tomorrow. Gone cannot expand or add a moment more to any day. What fills the moments are so designed: no recall, no redo, no erasure. Yet, how together we were! How the scend and sound of you pulsed the core of my being. How exquisite! How perfectly exquisite! I feel you still! Ah! My dearest! You are an awakening! How the world is more vibrant! I see colors, and hear sounds, and take scents, and feel sensations as I have never, ever done before! I sift from my dream of you as I awake to wonder if I will have this love with me for the day, and before I part my lashes I know! I know! The welling in my bosom swells to the room, roseate, exultant, inspiring! Together we are. How I want to be in you as you are in me! And you are in me. I want you in every way. When I think of that I wonder if it's true that it's better to be on the road than to have arrived. Now I can only dream of what the sensations will be when you kiss me passionately, deeply, knowing we are completely free to pursue our love beyond the pale. What electric comes when you take my nipple to your mouth, feel my naked flesh turn hot under your hand, and sense my tight coiling tension straining for release? If such a moment affects us both the same way, my Heavens! What sensibilities remain to record on some super psychic Richter Scale the explosions that surely must take place? And they say it can be repeated. That it can be done again and again and again! In any variety of ways, on any number of stratospheres. Oh! Let`s love each other fully! You in me, me in you, us in each other, and if there is more let us have it to discover. I'm learning so many wonderful things about myself, Dearest Sweetheart, because of you; I am on tenterhooks to know more of you; now! Imagine how high soars my speculation on what there is for us together.
After today, I want to know when that will be. To be torn apart so swiftly with unfair and faint goodbye. How angry I am with myself for not responding to the urge--Oh! How many thousands of times!--to clutch your handsome face and kiss and kiss you hard. With sweetness just one would've filled my day. And if I had to chose to see you and no kiss...Ah! Which? Either way the enravishing ecstasy of pain. I saw your eyes hard on my lips I wondered where you felt them to you. No. I knew. I wanted them there, too.
Something that troubles me much: More than missed kisses...when do I see you again? In the haste and fluster with which we left the park, neither you nor I gave one dot to the morrow. Yes, we will see each other; I'm sure, but when and where; and for how long...? Ah! The last is most intriguing! I warn you, no matter where or when I claim your lips--at least--to preclude sorrow on the morrow! Premeditation in extremis. I will have my kiss! Deny me at your peril!
There are many thoughts that fill my mind of you. Of them, whether simple or complex, bring an excitement. How I enjoy the thought of being seen together. I am so proud of you. There is a meaningfulness that comes with pursing even the smallest of pleasures when it's done with someone of importance in one's life; the more important, the more satisfying. I suppose the most important person inherently commands a serious commitment, a challenge of responsibility, a satisfaction of attainment. Yes, it must be pride that glows inside me when with you I see how adroitly, with great charm; you consider all who enter your circle. And I know why. I've heard people tell me how they like animals, or a hobby, or a sport. I've never heard anyone say,--Me? I love people! You love people! You prove it in the affection, and tenderness and respect you present to me. How I love you for all that. Then, I bask in the thought of being committed to each other. Of you leaving me for the day to peruse a man's other needs, then, returning again to me. Of making all sorts of plans for the future. Most unashamedly I must tell you what I think of most is making love with you. As hard as I try, I can't imagine what it must be like. I know neither the beginning, the ending, nor anything in between. I can't wait for you to teach me. What an exciting world to explore. Want to know what mystifies me much? What do I expect of you? And you, what is it you expect of me? How disappointed if you have in mind what I can't give: avalanches, rocketbursts, nuclear fission. Be sure I'll try. But when?
There is some slight trepidation, but with your news of today I grow stronger in my resolve to make a home of my own. How fascinating a prospect! I never dared to think of it before! But how majestic it must be to share a space only with one's own will and whim! To do things, or not do things! As one damn pleases! What a prospect! Such thoughts only make me more aware of how stultifyingly restrictive is the world I now endure. How painful! I hate it! I shall move out! Though it sounds precipitous, I believe it's been in my mind for too many years. How grateful to you I am to help me add this one more positive step to my once miasmic world. Some clothes, my books and classical tapes my total impedementa. Guilt feelings, sorrows and regrets I leave behind. Perhaps I reproach myself too harshly for permitting me to allow what I have done to myself concerning my parents.
Rather, from such cold and chilling thoughts I turn to the heat of our passions. How could that be never lying together bathed in ardor and desire? Because your image comes before me, then, in minute reflections I know the very touch and stroke of you, your love cupping my heart, your breath stirring my soul, and together our sensations suspended in a superstratospheric ecstasy. Sir? In my lifetime, I have heard of a miracle or two, intoned by priests for priestly reasons, but never have I seen one, or had one occur next door, so let's not rely on so scarce an item to see an occurrence of such vast importance and desire come to us. Between the two of us, I'm certain a way will be found. Arrange it.
In that line, I think of all the sweethearts in the world who
confronted misfortune, tears flooding their vessels of love, and when asked of their affair, I picture them all with the same smile, one that says, "Whatever else, I've been loved."
Ah! That I am! I want everything! I pray no inexorable and jealous spirit steals what is meant to be ours. We must make it happen, my love, we must hold ourselves responsible to seek out so beautiful an affection as exists between us, and strengthen it with kisses, embraces, touchings, visions, hearing, smelling, lovemaking, being; Lord! Being us! If we don't do this how great a sin we create, how vast a void fills our lives. How grievous and unforgiving it rests on us.
My dearest, I know it will take more than words to have our next meeting culminate in the exquisiteness we desire. Touch me, my darling, touch me in the way no other has or ever will. Until I find you there, I will dream endlessly of the rapture waiting for us.
Know how consuming and hot this fire of love burns for you. I hold tenderly, embracing your heart with my most joyous love until I find myself with you again. Forever yours,
Mary
CHAPTER 29
THE DARK EMBRASURE, a few doors down from the photographer's studio at nightfallen Eden Farms, provided Sam and Mary with a degree of seclusion that allowed them to indulge in the freedom to enjoy somewhat uninhibited their togetherness. From the time they got off the subway train, they had little time to spare to meet Louisa. At first, they stopped in a doorway up much further, but the activity of late commuters allowed them no more than handholding. Quite casually they strolled, she holding his arm tight to her. They were directly opposite the porno movie house. --Don't you wish we could be someplace private where we could just plain indulge ourselves in our desire to physically devour each other--to touch, to hold, to embrace, to kiss, to lick, to bite, to invade...?
--No.
--No!
--No. I've not been trained in self-resusitation from cardiac arrest.
--Oh! Sam. This is terrible! I want to kiss you. Lord! Talk to me! Tell me something! Distract me! Express some worldly advice!
--You mean, such as Polonius advises his son, Laertes?
--Okay, just keep my mind off your...penis.
--You realize, such advice comes from one's own experience; from what actions affected his choices and paths. I shall try to be universal. I'll try to impart aphorisms I have thought about, and devised for myself. Simple enough, I think. First, I think I'd say to be as smart as you can be; next, be as happy as you can be; and last, be as courageous as you can be. You know something? They all come from what I wish I did when I was younger. Course, I know too much of what's gone on, and what's directed my life; so, it's really unfair to be able to look back and give advice. If I could've been as smart as I might have been, I know now, I would've been happier; and certainly, what came about came about because I lacked courage--not because I wasn't brave, but because my loyalty, my emotions played too big a role. And, I think, if I was smart, and decided to make myself happy, and took the chance to do it...
--...we would've gone up to the room.
--Yes. But the reasons we didn't are just as valid at this moment, believe it or not.
--Give me ten of them?
--We need only one: Our love is so beautiful; we must nurture it; we must treasure it; we must guard it.
--Oh! Come on, Sam! I don't want to sound like Desperate Diane with my last chance for a man, but you're making too much of it. We're just two people, casually going through a life that could've been kinder to us earlier. We're simple human beings who were fortunate enough to find a sincere response to the affection we hold, me for you--you for me. Millions of others have gone through the same thing...exactly. You fall in love, you have sex, you get married, have kids, and then you're on Social Security taking insulin shots, or in a wheelchair slackjawed drooling with a vapid look in the eyes. If we never met, and never fell in love, and never walked in Eden Farms how much different could the world be? Now answer me!
--Some love you have. A pessimist, rotten to the core. The world is a lousy place, and everyone--especially friends, relatives and mother and father--is out to stiff you. Everyone should get stiffed--and the sons-of-bitches that do it get stiffed the worst, like cancer of the testicles--it's like the seasoning of life...
--Answer me.
--Sure. Look.
--What?
--Up there. You know how big the sky is? I mean, you've got an idea in your mind, right? Big, huh?
--Yeah. Big. Immane.
--And you know about the universe. If everyone alive on earth right this second could think how big it is, we wouldn't begin to get close to the edge, right? That's BIG! So, see those two stars...those, sort of set apart from others, but kind of sidling close to each other? Well, those are just ordinary, common stars, casually doing what stars do, right? They're just like us: they're separate, but together. They share their separateness, they share the togetherness; together, they make a bigger light than when they're each alone. Now, remember how big is the universe, and hold your finger up in front of those stars and block them out of the sky. Does it change the sky?
--Why...of course!
--Yeah, Sweetheart, it changes the whole universe!
--You know what?
--What?
--Your distraction is rotten; I'm going to die if in ten seconds I don't get to kiss you!
That's when they discovered the haven.
Mary stepped in quickly bringing Sam with her. She put her back to the wall, drawing him tight to her. The kiss was explosive, hard, short. She looked up into his face. Passing car lights caused their eyes to sparkle at one another. Spontaneously, they both broke out in laughter when she grabbed and pulled his buttocks hard into her. --Oh! Darling! I love the feel of it! Push it harder into me! She moved her lips out to him as if she were trying to catch a falling drop of honey until the touch of his parted lips pulled them together, his tongue tracing her mouth before probing her soft wetness. Feeling her buttocks press into the brickwork she responded by tightening her muscles urging him more to her. Oh! So close! So damn close! We're not separated by more than a half-inch from Paradise. God! I wonder what that must feel like inside me? What happens? Exactly? I've seen it often enough at the movies across the street: it glides in and out and in and out with the camera showing the look on the girls face like she can't get enough; but, what causes that look? Like when I play with myself: the heavenly sensation that I'm about to rocket off this planet. But I don't remember everything leading up to coming. It drifts over me so slowly, like a gentle moving fog... Suddenly, Sam threw his head back and gasped, thrusting his pelvis violently into her several times.
--Holy Jesus Franklin Christ!
--Quite a seduction. Do you generally do a dry run for all the girls?
--I'm just a normal, horny guy with steaming blood in these Italian veins.
--I love it when I excite you...
Sam broke away from Mary. He took a step out of the black toward the sidewalk into the chiaroscuro. He put both hands to his face, fingers alongside his nose and pulled them down over his mouth and chin.
He barely felt her nuzzle his shoulder, a hand slipping around his chest unpossessively keeping him to her.
--Can't we go someplace? This is...like dying, the words lying softly across his shoulder. She could feel his heart beating; huge, deep breaths of air his arm pressing to trap hers. She felt as deeply, passionately close to this man as if he were her own child. And with that, God forgive her! She came to understand the rationale for incest which emotional quicksand she had to traverse before she could love beyond herself.
--I love you, Mary Dolorosso. Do not trouble your precious heart with troubles that are not troubles to me. You find pain in mortal doings of which my feelings for you far transcend. Not that I do not see your caring in the expression of your concern, for I do; not that I do not feel the tenderness with which you probe the aching desire of this man, for I do; and not that I don't share the majesty of purpose in marshalling our sense
s for the assault on Paradise, for I do-- because... because I love you with such ardor they are the verymost easiest for me to do. He turned to her, put one arm around her waist, and the other hand went up to lie alongside her cheek to bring her face up to his. He moved slowly to take a quick, soft kiss. He pulled his head back so he could catch the spot of light caught in her eye, whispering to him, “Short in time, long in meaning.” He moved closer again, and with the tip of his tongue traced her lips. He kissed the tip of her nose, each eye, her forehead, then her chin. Finally, he covered her mouth with his, holding the kiss lightly so he could absorb the sensations that came through her heat, coming off of her ever so gently as if he was to leave, then, returning; repeating the pattern several times, each time she moved forward to search him out to regain the touch only to continue the teasing by pulling away minutely. As if by signal, they each moved their heads from side to side, pressing harder, burrowing further into one another, until the scorch of the brand on one another caused them both to break apart gasping.
--Sam! We've got to make love!
--I know...
--...or I'll die...
--Yes...or no. It makes no difference to me.
--You don't love me...?
--On the contrary. But consummating this love is not crucial to me.
--How can that be? Is something wrong? With you? With me?
A Matter of Love in da Bronx Page 33