i remember

the first alluring memory was the incandescent lighting from the desktop lamp on the floor as her bedroom door slowly opened. we had to be silent not to wake anyone in the other rooms. out of respect of course. it was a small room and i remember thinking about some foolish idiom that i had heard perhaps from a dull movie about the room not being big enough for her level of visionary expression. she had a bed that was low to the floor and a black desk from which she would create her masterpieces, her magnum opus. there appeared to be no book shelves and a dresser drawer which she suitably left in her closet. on the floor, an audio unit from which she could plug in her ipod, sat patiently. all these methods of inspiration i thought. music, art, literature. these are the doorways into a world of culture and existence. a social reality that i was eager to explore but to shy to rationalize. and for the first time i could sense the shyness in reason. peering around i remember seeing an array of books, a partially finished illustration, and drawing materials scattered everywhere as if she were the type to work on one prophetic idea and then interpose to begin another. this was unfamiliar territory to me. to be in the den of an actual artisan was something i wasn't prepared for. how fascinating i thought. how vitalizing. for years i practise this art of seduction and was triumphant. unbeaten, as it were. but to become the admirer, the aficionado, the follower. what a sensation. what an impression. this image, this idea of her, radiated over me as if a blinding light were to come soothingly composed. she invited me in graciously as i quietly placed my satchel on the floor not to make any sudden noise and then sat on her bed like a child would in some unknown space. standing in front of me with a pleasing smile, she began to undress. such fair skin. such a persuading aroma. she began to fondle my hair and stepped amid my legs. i avidly kissed her stomach. passion consumed us both as she then kneeled to brush and caress my lips casing her silken arms around my neck. what sweet revelation. what sweet surrender. i took my clothes off with content as she reached over to her ipod and altered the atmosphere with a melody i will never forget. we laid in her bed and our kisses and conversations came easy. she talked while i would listen and then i would talk. it seemed like our conversations came along without strain. we seemed to discover secrets together. when she would discover a good one, she would laugh the only way she could. it was like the joy out of fire. through the talking we kissed and moved closer together. we became heated and decided to make love. i felt her crying without sound. i could feel her tears. that dark hair lay behind me like a flag of death. we enjoined, made slow, sombre and wonderful love and then clinched each other in our naked embraced. i remember. i will always remember...