the last wknd we shared

Today is the day I was supposed to see you again.  You were landing in Nashville from London and I was arriving two hours later.  You were going to meet me at the airport and then we’d go to your house and spend the next three days together alone, til Sunday when my grandmother was scheduled to arrive.  Then we 3 kings would have a week to enjoy each other, cook, spruce up your place, hang out with your friends, get stoned, take walks and talk incessantly like we always did.  Today is fucking hard.  I woke up with an anvil in my chest.  I threw on some reggae and was uplifted in a way I didn’t expect.  I sang, I danced and moved with a lightness I thought I wouldn’t taste for years.  I haven’t been listening to much music because everything reminds of you.  Everygoddamnsong.  I listened to Childish Gambino with no problem because you hated him. And I can hear your disapproving voice saying “that shit is a flash in the indie pan” and I’m delighted by your words.  I had a burst of joy, or what this new shade of joy is in a world without my best friend.  It’s nothing like the joy I knew before that Tuesday morning, obviously.  It’s a puff of smoke from a coughing dragon with a little less death on its breath.  But, it’s going to have to do if I’m going to get to the other side of this.  Whatever the fuck that means.

The last time I saw you was really great.  Every time I saw you was huge.  We’d spend all our in between time on the phone and then collide into each other with decadent intensity.  8/22/14 I had just landed from 6weeks in Nicaragua that Friday morning.  That evening, my sister and I got all dolled up and drove to the Bill Graham Civic Center to meet you before the show.  You were so beautiful.  You were so soft and gentle natured with me.  In the last two years, you had been working so hard to soften up in general.  The alchemy I noticed in you was magical.  You noticed my own alchemy as I had been growing up too. We talked backstage about the thing you always talked to me about.  You asked me “Have you finished that children’s book yet?”  My sister left us alone because you started in on me about finishing it faster.  I loved every minute of it because you cared so deeply, and tried to kiss you into silence because I simultaneously didn’t want to be lectured…again.

I massaged your hands, the ways I always did before any show you were playing in my presence.  I swear nothing made me happier than massaging your hands before a show.  Every touch was intentional, purposeful, charged, full of love and admiration and devotion to the force you are, the man who makes me proud, the friend I trust with all my parts.

Lalo came in to tell you it’s time.  We kissed.  “i love you baby, go get em”  “i love you too, woman”. And you’re off

Then Jazmine and I stationed ourselves on your side of the stage.  Where I’ve stood so many times before.  Mars Volta tours, same thing.  You were always on the same side of the stage and I’d stand right there, only feet away and watch you do what you loved.  In absolute love with your magic.  And your strength.  And your sensitivities.  And your insecurities.  And your might.  And your power.

I stood right there in that same spot, at that same venue. 12/31/07 for the new years eve mars volta show.  the show stopped for the countdown and when the new year came in, balloons and confetti came cascading from the ceiling.  you got up from your keyboard, walked to where i was standing and kissed me so sweetly.  I was entirely aglow.  we were staying at the phoenix hotel and on the walk back to the room, we marched side by side hand in hand like beasts.  Proud to be exactly what and where we were.  You always said “we are 900 lb gorillas. the others stop and notice”.

That August night, I stood there and remembered all the times I’ve watched you play and I held my hand over my heart for almost the whole show.  Under the blue lighting, You looked at me intentionally at one point and noticed my hand over my heart.  You smiled at me.  I smiled back.  And gave you a little nod.  It didn’t feel like a silly lover’s googly eyed moment.  It was a knowing, an understanding, an accepting, an acknowledgement of all of our everything and an appreciation for all that means, a gratitude to still be right there, in each other’s line of sight and at the core of each other’s love lineage.

us. again.

my last dream of you was lovely.  I fell asleep and my next vision was us together, again.  it was like that shitty 90s bill cosby film, “ghost dad”.  ive seen too many movies.  you were deceased and i was here, on earth without you. in hell.

you told me you could stay here as long as i didnt let on the fact that you were here.  we were at a party and your long beach friends were there.  no one could see you but me.  you told me “baby, i can stay here as long as you don’t let on to the fact that i’m here.. pretend like nothing has changed and you can keep me here forever.  so i happily agreed.  one of our songs came on “nylon smile” by portishead. and i started to dance on you.. and i put my arms on your broad saviour shoulders. and you said “baby put your arms down, you’ll give our cover away”.  And I started to turn around and dance with you behind me. And again, you said “baby, you have to pretend like i’m not here”.  So I took you to a private room where I could kiss you freely.  It felt so real.  I could feel your teeth between my lips. and I said “baby, i don’t want to live like this. Can i just come with you?” and you smiled and said “yesssss”

and i did.

And on

What is left can not be called living. There is a colorless, odorless synthesis of shapes and objects I’m supposed to feel connected to. A set where things move but nothing lives.
The face around my skull was resplendent when savored by your regal taste. Today, only a misshapen husk hangs here.
I pray for an aneurysm every night. I dream of You, finally I’m home. I wake up. The grappling hook of your departure slams into my rib cage with the velocity of our promises. With the speed of my struggling feet it is seduced out to propel me into another boneless day without you.
I’m asked how are you and force some socially acceptable dribble to keep others from considering their own im/mortality.

the widow

aah fuck that song

“see you tomorrow”

I hate that phrase.  i have become that person who cringes at that saying.

It is a sentence we never uttered to one another because I love you was always a more appropriate choice.

Ours was a language of love that overshadowed time and space.

I used to tell you during our off times that “I’ve loved you for so many lifetimes, it’s ok if we sit this one out”

So romantic in its morbid melancholy musing, now I find it laughable.  It finds me laughable too.

In the wake of your “absence” I would give my life to have the lifetime we dreamed of for the next twenty something years.

You were supposed to watch me age.  I was supposed to nag you about your eating habits for another decade or two.

I was always so concerned about aging, you would tell me “Baby, you’re going to be beautiful.  you’re only going to be more beautiful as time goes on.  i can’t wait to see what you look like when you’re 40.  And how different you are as a woman”

Sometimes I get so mad at you for leaving without fulfilling the dreams we had for our love.  And then I let myself drown in all of our moments and I become ineffably grateful for everything we shared.   That weekend at the bridge school benefit in 2012.  That was our opus as Lovers.  We apologized for our past wrongdoings and we cried together.  We made love like animals and aliens that weekend.  I begged you to give me a baby.  You happily obliged in attempting.  You joked “You probably will get pregnant this time”. You loved it when my biological clock was ticking.  You beamed with pride.  Finally! This wild woman wants to settle down and I can have us forever.  You told me “As much as I know I’m called to play music, I know my purpose here includes loving you”  I said “I know my purpose on this planet is to love you”.  And you corrected me by saying “Half of your purpose, baby.  The other half is to be an artist.  And when you fulfill that purpose, you’ll have everything”

You believed in me.  And wanted me to believe too.

You have pushed me into writing more.  I don’t deserve death and our next big reunion awaits me once I handle the thing you always knew I was called here to manifest.

You have always been my hero.  And you remain the only hero I need.

How lucky my hero was my home.  My lover. My brother. My best friend. The person I called for any and every reason.  I love you.

“I am under no disguise”.  Everyone who has tried to love me since I met you has fallen at your feet.  I left 3 people to pursue us.  Over the course of 7 years.  They used to hate our relationship.  And since that Tuesday, they have each reached out with open arms to say “I know what Ikey means to you, how can I show up for you now?”

I tried to distract myself while you were away, but I never fooled anyone.

I’m so glad I came back, running to you in April.  And so glad you were waiting.  And so glad we had unearthed our profound love this year.  And made plans to stop running from each other and get it figured out.  You knew I was yours.  All the time, yes, and that night before you departed.

I LOVE YOU ISAIAH

I followed my heart back to our ephemeral, ethereal, eternal refuge.  And it never failed me.

 

 

Visit me. Every night.

After dreaming of you all night and all morning, I woke up, again, for a split second thinking you were still here, nothing had changed.  The dreams were so good, baby.  You were finally in full flesh beside me, looking at me in the eyes, holding me, making out with me.  I could feel the contour of your lips exactly like the last time we kissed.  I could taste the shape of your top lip trying to be smaller for mine.
You smoothed the wiry coils away from my face and kissed me while cooing syrupy mmms into my mouth, breathing baritone aahs over my neck. 

We argued, too, in this dream, then I knew you were really there haha. You were playfully complaining about some pair of shoes you bought me and I said “Well, now you never have to worry about that again, do you? Happy?”, choking back tears.
You said “No. No, I’m not.”
And I said “Me neither, baby”
And we just fell into each other crying.
And kissing again.

I was extracted from myself and was given an aerial view of us kissing and holding each other.  The scene I saw was me alone, groping at thin air, head craning curiously about itself, left thigh propped up on nothing.  Eyes tightly shut, lips puckered at nothing.

I flew back into myself and you were visible again. Tangible again. Beautiful again.  Beside me again.

There was a young man knocking at my door.  You asked “Aren’t you going to answer? It’s probably one of your would be suitors coming to you in my absence” I smirked.  “No, smart ass, I’m staying right here with you”.  You smirked back “Good, woman”.  And you made that face.  When the beast takes over.  Reptilian stare. All power. And I look up from a slightly bowed head.  Giving you the reverence your might demands.  I return your cannibal glare with feigned  fragility, intensifying your need for blood,granting you permission to murder me.
And you did.  Keep coming in dreams like that, baby, and I’ll sleep this life away.
Like spokes of a wheel, there are numerous possible realities. They roll themselves out like red carpets or snakes tongues, each a facet of all there is and could be.
I have to believe this waking life without your previous physical form is only a fraction of reality. 
Much like many lands are wet, and others simultaneously dry each June.
I’ll write about you under Sun and see you again under Moon.

Business

I’ve got some things I need to do. And then I’m coming home to you. And when I get there I’m going to kick your ass for leaving too soon. And then I’m going to kiss your entire face off. And hold you. And tell you how much I love you. How happy I am to see you. How beautiful you are. How much everyone loves you. How perfect you are. How lucky I am. I’m really happy we said these things to each other all the time when you were here. In life before that Tuesday you always knew I was only ever in love with you. You said you never worried about anyone else because you could tell I was still yours. So confident, so right, so arrogant, so Isaiah. We will have our sweet November if it kills me. I love you

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