in a foreign tongue...
There are faces in my dreams from the dark streets of European cities.Foreign voices speak in tongues ripped from the pages of books. The voices are more romantic than I imagine. I want to run but their secrets are too dangerous to ignore. They whisper that my lover is beautiful. They will show my lover the hidden beauties of the dark city, if only I will allow it. They know the red wine she loves to drink. The voices know, without saying so, how to please my lover--first with their talk and tales of hotels and gardens, then with caresses like the water of fountains, then with movements too intimate for words.
I listen more intently, and hear that the voices are neither male nor female. They confuse me with their androgynous timbre. The voices echo in my mind as through unfamiliar streets and I realize I am suddenly walking in the body of a woman. My dress is loose and voluptuous and allows me to feel every nuance of my new body. I am returning home from my lover's house by the river, still filled with his pleasure and fine wine. Someone is following me. Not too closely, but tenaciously, sadly...he will not let me escape. He is a silent one. Something's got his tongue. I can feel his humility preceding him and this puzzles me, for I know he will never let me go when he sees the beauty of my new body. We have come to a deserted part of the inner city. The voices of angels ricochet off the stone walls of the narrow passage. There is a quick glint of silver just ahead of me. I decide something final, and turn to face my silent new lover. He will mistake me for one of the city's fallen angels. I whisper words of love into his ear that he will never understand...
1998 |