Ra Falling Out of Space
She was always walking into things when we would drink too much, and Iâd have to either safeguard all the table edges or rotate her hips a few degrees as if to steer her out of harms way. In return, she wouldnât judge too heavily when I yelled at myself all too often over the things I couldnât control. She would rest her forearm on my forehead when we slept to remind my mind that physically, it was never far off from a loving hand. In the morning, she would wake up and play the music loud enough for me not to sleep in all day. At night, when I would be pacing back and forth in the kitchen at three a.m. battling monsters invisible, she would sneak in in her silk gown, kiss my left ear, and then the right, prepare a cup of tea for us to share, roll a joint and wait for me to realize she was there, and weâd smoke silently.Â
When she disappeared back into our bedroom, I would remember the oxygen that was necessary to keep around. I would remember how sheâd sometimes smile in her sleep, and eventually, on the good nights, Iâd join her before 4 a.m. and sometimes, sheâd even wake up out of her sleep and mumble something random about graham crackers, and itâd take my mind off of my mind and Iâd laugh softly, kiss her forehead, and go to sleep. She didnât let me get her flowers, and I think I loved her most because, instead, we started a garden with mason jars and recycled orange juice jugs. Our shrubs were created in love. We gave them nicknames and prayed for thanks before we plucked and ate them for dinner. She wasnât a vegetarian like me, and she didnât scoff when I cheated; neither did she use her influence to get me to eat meat.Â
I tried to keep her under a pack a day when the rain hit our tin roof too hard. Thatâs the only time sheâd ever curse me out, and Iâd just walk to the living room, find her stash, take one out, light it and throw the rest away. Five minutes later, sheâd have another pack in her hand, glaring at me..or crying. When she was sick, Iâd wipe her nose with my hand. When I yawned without covering my mouth, she would poke the back of my mouth with her hand. We didnât like the same music, but she reminded me to call my parents. I thought she worked too hard. She thought I was too relaxed.
When we went spent the day thrifting, she would bring along a mini-notebook to sketch images of cartoon characters. When there were no scores, and the day was done, weâd dedicate five minutes to cursing loudly, then go get a bottle of red wine and drink from paper cups in the park. She was not photogenic, and I had to sneak pictures of her as we walked through fields of flowers. She knew what I was trying to do and always had at least one eye closed. Still, she was the most beautiful anything I had ever seen; at least for the last few lifetimes.Â
When the fates decided it was time for us to carry on, we fought tooth and nail, and it demolished parts of our connected self in a last effort self-destruct attempt, but the energy that discovered us within eachotherâs arms had always been bigger than ourselves. She walked away swiftly, and I chased after the setting sun until nightfall.
