Mar. 1st, 2004

From Susan Minot's Evening. I thought about putting in an LJ cut, but it's too wonderful to hide. I wish I could take credit for the words - but I can only say that I understand this excerpt so intimately that it could, in fact, be mine.

There was nothing to keep in herself. She took his face in her hands and kissed him feeling so near that it was like her face looking out at her ownself and her spirit opened wider to him. It could not stop. That's what love was, she thought, throwing open everything and not having it matter if it would go on afterwards. Nothing went on forever. Her bones knew it and her thickened breath knew it and that's what she was became. She did not think what anything else meant she simply went out to him unquestioning and immediate and unprotected. He was going away, that was true, that would always be the truth for them, he would always be going but she would not protect herself, she would not withdraw her heart. She left behind negotiation and reason and passed understanding and moved into belief.
He took off his coat, wrapped it around her and lowered her to the ground. She was limp, he paused above her. She drew him down and thought of the rock garden and of swaying against him and of the sail closet lying on his chest and years ago when he had turned around with his sunglasses on at the station holding up her these yours? keys and years before that with the salt marshes flickering by and her reflection in the window and she remembered years ago on the boat with the slicing bow how she'd seen another boat on the horizon barely moving with sharp sails and how nothing moved. Her heart was going madly, his mouth was close, it did not touch her mouth, his eyes were half-closed.
Look at me, he said.
She thought she'd been to the end of him once but this was further. There was nothing to hold onto but him. She let go of everything and held onto the underside of a cliff with only air around. Her body being plowed up the middle. It was being split along the sides. Her throat opened up. She let go of hope, there was no more hope. She let go of the future and let go of the memory of all she'd ever lost. It trailed off beind her. None of it mattered.
...
There was nothing to seal off the world. The black sky did not cover them, it was the opposit of a covering, it drew them up. The sky was an example of how far distance could go. I go on forever, it said, nothing can be contained. She was the same, she went on forever. She felt everything in her. Good and bad were not so different, she inhabited them equally. She was never more herself and yet never so altered this is what you were made for his departure was there in each touch and she went toward that departure without reservation or need for proof, she went full-fledged. Every nerve had him running through it, her electric feeling for him.
...
Her legs went up around him. She had not felt empty til now being filled she saw that everything without him was empty. Her head stretched from side to side, her breath stopped. In that instant everything was suspended and complete, there were the tiniest threads connecting the stars to the tops of the trees to the outline of his ear to the end of her lifted toes. Her head was rolling inside and she shuddered around him and pulled him close.
She was being thrown slowly off a cliff and she made a great arc and didn't drop but stayed up and flew and kept flying and instead of falling could dip down and not hit the ground. His hand was under her lower back, he was moving over her. She had endless capacity, she could go on endlessly, nothing would stop her. This flying would go on forever. His mouth vibrated over her breast, nibbling at her, and when she was gone it would still be there in history, she would be forever unraveling and peeling back from him. He pulled her knee to his chest, folding her, he could crush her if he wanted, it would be stamped on her soul. He unfolded her and looked at her body then at her eyes then back over his shoulder at her food in the air. He was propped up, she was beneath him flying. She flew over fields with animals grazing, over couples embracing, she flew over people shouting and bodies lying lifeless on the ground, past children playing - they stopped and raised curious faces as she passed over head - she went over crashing rocks and foamy water. His arms were straining holding himself up, elbows locked. He made no sound. He stared down. Her shadow zoomed. It stretched out over the ground then bunched up fat over a bump in a hill then flat again like a dark mat on the speeding water, turned fuzzy-edged and serene over a grassy plain. She could not tell where she stopped. He swooped down, kissed her, pulled up again. She could not tell where...her nerves were fluttering, her hands curved around him.
Later her life would be full of things, full of houses and children and trips to the sea and husbands and hats with brims and dogs catching sticks and tables to set and lists to cross off and she would have left singing behind and the stars would never look this way again, they would be further away but at odd unexpected moments something of the stars might strike her and it would be as if someone had branded her forehead with a hot iron. She could not name it, the thing hitting her for an instant, and would not recall what had once been in her head at another time with other stars, but she would have the sense that she'd lost something and not know what it was and not want to find out. She sensed it might be too great to bear.

September 2021

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