Dancing in the Dark @elenamcwrites - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook (2024)

I knew I would not love you when in the kitchen where I made only one Thanksgivingdinner for my father who couldn’t eat ityou debated the definition of marriageas if your history lessonon the origins of the institutioncould make love mean less, impressme for speaking so precisely about context. I could never live in your context, fit your definition of love, and I knew it. But you appeared when no one else could,to carry my weighted remnants from one ghost town to another. Who was I to refusehelp I asked for, even thoughI knew right there, on a sunny weekday afternoonin the house where my father died---I would never love you.

Part 16

that raven-hair, icy-eyed magnetismhe carried clouds with him and laughedmumbled romance like a thunder rolltossed darkness over his shoulderinhaled ash and burnt his fingerskept his bedroom cold as hell, and Icraved the taste of smoke and distraction.

part 17

we slid down the wet winter mountain muckback to your foggy one-bathroom andshowered, one at a time. Mouths purplewith wine and sky shaking laughter,I want you to know that Us like that was always enough. ButI do not regret the surprising, brief buds of spring, my chin soft onthe skin of your chest, the delicatesudden blooms we handled carefully,held deliberate between our palmslike we knew we’d never get to stayin our little, magic liminal space.

part 15 (edited)

ocean froth roiled at the mouthof the lighthouse where I satflashed a warning smile, don’tcome too close. Keep awayfrom where the rocks and wreckage wait,the unnavigable, inevitable dead-end.Was it my fault he thought himself a moth?A magnet to my magnificent maelstrom,he thought he could coast the shoals on lovenotes, fruit loops, and mix CDs. Siren, he called me, endearinglyuntil the light turned its backand let him drown in the dark.--------------

I came back to this one because it just didn’t feel right yet. Revised it a bit, and I think I like this version better.

part 15

When we met, I was a warninglighthouse flashing. I tried to show himhow to pass me in the night.I didn’t want to draw him closewhere the rocks and wreckage waited.Was it my fault he thought himself a moth?A magnet to my magnificent maelstrom,did he think he could calm the water with fruit loops and mix CDs? Siren, he called me, endearinglyuntil the light turned aroundand let him drown in the dark.

part 13, the ending

when the love spoiledsat out on the counterwaiting, heavy, warm and staringdaring one another---totouch it, to toss it, you goahead then---the decay quickened,grew moldy rings ‘round the edges.that dank taste of ashes, ashesthat coat our cotton mouths still.there was a certain salve, asatisfaction in the rotting sporesmorphed into fuzzy blue-green new thingslike the monstrous twist in a fantastic talethat I just had a feeling about.

part 16

your world was soft, inky grease streaks on my knees,gritty pebbles on my palms, abandonedcigarettes and bottle caps on the benchthe easy rumbling bass guitar,the spokes spinning by my sneakers,gripping the back of the bike seat,my skirt tucked between my legsas you glide through stoplightssmelling of the good, cheap beer I thoughtI didn’t like, I’m sorrywe never held handsor told the truth.

part 15, or 13 revived

january resolve, restarting on emptyimagined magic, convinced againin the foggy dance hallin the icy stars over puddled streetsin the muddled sour whiskeylike campfire smoke in my throatsuspended in frozen ocean waveswe dreamed we were diamondsexquisite, crystallizedlike sparkling, shattered glass.

part 14

barely touched, but we watched each otherstrangers, circling the edge of a whirlpool untilI let go and slipped into it, escaped from homefrom him, for hours. Just four easy hoursto move without aching, to be seen and swept up again.the empty hotel hallway our only witnessthe inevitable, onlyaloha kiss.