The ones that you love lead you nowhere

[al_shairan]

Open up your heart to me; I would be your slave.

*

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.

Thursday, mid-afternoon, the Carnival

"How many of our Brothers have you destroyed, how many have you twisted away from Love

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[tereixa_zann]

It's been a strange time, it has been such a strange time, it really really has. No-one but family on the lot when it hit, thank god, 'cause marks are a bit rough at the best of times and I do not wanna think what it coulda turned into if it'd hit on a packed night, it would have been Judgment Day on the midway

[al_shairan]

A young woman calls out to me as I walk into the carnival. It is a drab sort of place, although I see signs that at night, and in a better season, it might have a sort of transitory loveliness, the flicker of electric lights and the swirl of the rides. In daylight it reminds me of bones in the desert.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?"

It's a strangely generous sort of question for a stranger. Unless she thinks she knows me, but I do not think that is it, and I stop in front of her.

"No," I say. "Not at all." There is a brief sort of relief in saying it.

[tereixa_zann]

"No," he says, "Not at all," and there's that slip, quarter-turn loosening of a bolt caked with grease and a subtle sigh going through the parts of the machine...

"Come and sit down?" I say, moving to the edge of the Carousel and dropping to the boards, looking up at him. He's beautiful, I think, maybe Genny's age and with some of the same delicate build. Brighter than her, though, like a lightbulb filament against the air of the day. "It's okay, she's mine," I add, patting the Carousel and smiling, "no-one's gonna kick us off." Not that I think he's really worried about that, looks like he's got bigger things on his mind, but it's something to put him a bit at ease. "I'm Zann, Tereixa Zann, just Zann's fine if you like."

Hesitate for a second, and then go on a bit softer. "I guess... is it your memory, hon? Or you have a fight with a friend?"

[al_shairan]

"I'm Zann, Tereixa Zann, just Zann's fine if you like."

"Hello, just-Zann," I say, sitting down next to her. "I am..." I pause, because I do not remember what they call me in this tongue, and if I say my name as I remember it may be like the church again. "I do not know what you should call me," I say, and that is true. I do not want to lie, even if I think it would be prudent for me to leave some things out.

"I guess... is it your memory, hon? Or you have a fight with a friend?"

That is it, so precisely and so prosaically, that I almost laugh.

"That," I say. "Both. I have forgotten half of who I've been, and I found someone I have not seen in a long time and he said he still loves me, but not enough to forgive me. But I cannot remember what it is I did." I think of the things the god showed me. I do not remember. I do not. "And I miss my kin," I say, and I hear my human voice wobble briefly. These bodies seem so solid, and yet they are water that holds itself in a shape by some strange and unlikely combination of circumstances.

[tereixa_zann]

The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account, love itself balks account, and it is a thing renewed and felt each moment. I take his hands as they reach mine, fingers meshing smoothly once in quick embrace, and let him go, reach to take his face in my hands. Not to kiss him now but to see him, sweet symphony of muscle and skin pliant with life, O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul
and cloth and covering undone. I can feel my blood beating harder within me and see his rising as I undress him, us, and touch him, pulls his hands to me, and the curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body; the circling rivers the breath, and breathing it in and out and standing warm against him and draw him back the step for the distance through it to turn and slow recline and "I love you" and

voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloudsuch a small space and more than enough, who I am and the bodies we wear it cannot be perfect

[al_shairan]

She undresses this body and her own tenderly and draws me down beside her, and she shows me she loves me with her hands and her words. It is easy to sing this song, dance these steps, despite the awkwardness of these bodies. The armies of those I love engirth me - yes, yes. Against her hair, her mouth, I sing of bodies electric, of things fair, freckled, adazzle, dim. The love of the Body of man or woman balks account. There need be no explanation but this, this perfectly imperfect meeting of flesh and soul.

Much of the day has passed.

“I do not sleep,” I say, touching her hair with my hand, her brow with my lips. “But if you wish to, I will stay.”

[tereixa_zann]

The light is different, now. It's as warm as it gets in winter, pouring through the cold air and diving through the weave of the curtain like honey that somehow manages to taste of mint. Sunset light, going down into the dark and the stars are always wheeling but soon we can see them, and everything we built into them, the lights in the heavens.

I can tell I'm being wrapped up in things, and that's okay. "I do not sleep,” I say, touching her hair with my hand, her brow with my lips. “But if you wish to, I will stay."

"I would like that," I say, and I feel sleepy in the good way, limbs and tendons worked and now slackening, the warmth of him next to me. "I'm glad I met you," I say, "and you sang to me, and we danced." Drape one arm over him and my fingers trace along his back for a moment before I rest. God, so beautiful. All of us. "If I drop off," I say, not quite yawning, "You promise you'll wake me if you need anything?"

[al_shairan]

I cover her with a blanket, and I lie back down next to her. Her fingers run over my back, and it is sweet.

"If I drop off. You promise you'll wake me if you need anything?"

"I have what I need," I say, and I touch my lips to her forehead. "But yes, I promise. Sleep now," I say, and after a while she does, and the sun goes down and the moon rises, and I stay beside her, her body warm against this body, and it is not enough, but it is something, and it is beautiful.