Yesterday

When I went out with the dogs, past midnight, there was a couple f*cking, fully clothed, standing up, under the bridge. They would have thought they were in darkness, but from where I stood they were a sharp silhouette, backlit by the lights from the hotel behind them.

Her legs (I could see the shape of her high-heeled shoes) were hooked over his hips; her head back, long hair swinging with their movement. He held her up against him, with no support. Except for her legs, wrapped around him, they could have been dancing.

I could use another word, something more acceptable. Sex. Intercourse. Even making love, which they certainly were doing. But f*cking seems right. There was a primal beauty to it. They, together, were the world; there was no other world than the two of them, together.

I watched, a long moment, less voyeurism (though that, too) than admiration for the pure athleticism of it.  One of the dogs made a sound, and the world, my world, intruded into theirs.

She slid off, slowly. Standing, disconnected, they merged even closer together; swaying with a different rhythm. Laughing, I hope.

I turned away with the dogs, glancing back (wouldn't you?) to see them slip over the riverbank.

This at the end of a long day, in which I learned that the seventeen year old son of a couple, for whom I have great respect and affection, has died, of an accidental overdose.

I have no children; I cannot grasp, I cannot hold, the intensity of this connection, or the depth of this loss.

So the day opened, and so the day closed.

Comments

[michelle]

what an amazing post..
so sorry to hear about the loss of a young one.

[Montana Jones]

Kudos. One of the best posts I have seen on your blog. Well written.

[david]

Wow. How...bizarre.

[Ken]

How close the veil between this world and the next, between this life and another. And, with each year, we see how thin the veil has always been.

Courage! (and humor)

[SB]

b. asks, if it's the right word, why not spell it out?

Because I don't want the sort of person who types the F-word into Google to wash up here. Bloggers have enough clean-up, what with professional spammers and semi-professional trolls; no need to invite the amateur tosser.

Also, I'm told that some systems will block posts/ sites with such language.

[yukino]

This is a beautiful entry, as poetic as any of your verse. Thank you for sharing.

[Karen]

So real, and then so sad.