It is the distance to the door. It is measured in feet and inches and awaiting her to cross such trivial distance is like watching somebody in the salt flats, miles away, blurry and shapeless. It can be maddening. Always is.
Watching her shed her outside world as she walked through the room, a coat sloughing off, a purse dropped to the floor...shoes being kicked off....she left a trail of work and pieces of everything else except him as she would greet him with her stare.
There were very few words needed in the earliest of moments of being reunited. Mostly quiet, still with each other, soaking in the proximity. Like the sun slowly lightening up the earth they revealed to each other in minutes, exposing themselves to each other. Reminding them...of them.
Like the earth...in the distances between them...flatlands, low lands...some slight inclines into foothills and mountain ranges...dark earthen tones, the colors of dirt when dry...the land splitting into cracks and crevices of neglect...her appearance like a rainstorm, restorative, cleansing...glistening in the reflection of the sky.
He rarely stayed with her. Meaning there was always movement...to and fro. Somebody arriving, someone departing...always. Usually.
But some times he stayed...and invaded those personal private hours.
The bath time hour, perhaps a few minutes at night when maybe she prayed...the dark house quiet and still, head on a pillow and thoughts of a tomorrow flickering in distraction. When he stayed those moments disappeared...for they rarely slept...instead, perhaps just as they were about to fall asleep they brushed against each other...that brush like flint and sparks...they would waken enough just to entangle...again.
Minutes skirted by...in a darkened room with no sense of up or down there was no time. It just was. It was just them. No real thoughts...like noise-cancelling technology they obliterated each other's mind so it was just them...nothing else.
And in the grogginess of awakening there was both the joy of finding each other and the low rumble of sadness tugging lightly on the horizon as an imminent departure was coming...the night ending, another day of not staying beginning.
Hair askew, eyes puffy...the glasses by the bedside, an empty bottle as well.
For a very few scant seconds it was like waking up in a dream...amazed and aware...and then a slight slump that the reality was going to be another goodbye.
But for a few minutes it was breakfast bliss, nuzzling...softly, nipping...slowly, really ever so slowly starting the day.
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