With scuffed shoes and a makeshift pyramid stance, I blocked out the white and deafening sun from your squinting face. Letting your guard down, you dropped your hand to your side. Your wince was liquid as it morphed to a smile, pausing in the undefined middle ground to wet your lips. Standing above you, I couldn't understand why I was the one who felt vulnerable; later I defined my unease as the apprehensive feeling that I was on display. I looked to my left and felt heat soaking its way into my neck and shoulders. I scanned the left side of this moment, searching for an excuse. A distraction. Searching for words, or questions. Finally, after my left eye had enough of squinting to ignore the immediate sun, I turned back to you.
"well, what do you want?"
you chuckled as though I had asked some ridiculous question. The sky was closing in and swirling heavy waves of heat into my back, the waves driving through my back. I pushed down my urge to stare straight at the sun, and instead focused my confused face on yours. Again.
"what do I want right now, or in the long-term, or what? Give me particulars and constants."
I froze, because all I had prepared was that one question. I didn't have a backup plan or a follow-up. My life was that one question and you decimated it. So I pulled my eyes away from yours and looked at the empty space by your right ear. I took a breath and took a shot.
"right now. what would you be doing if you let yourself go? what do you want?"
you avoided my eyes and let your face hang parallel to my feet. Snapping your head up, your shoulders reeled back and had you sitting upright. My head wasn't blocking the sun, you moved out of my protective shadow. So you winced. You shrunk your eyes and curled your lips and tightened your forehead. Your chin jutted towards me and you used your left hand as a visor. The temporary visor lent to a shadow, lent to your relaxed face. I tried to stand taller to block the sun, but it was almost like you wanted the heat against you.
"ill tell you what I need. is that alright?"
I was sweaty palms and a knot in my throat and a hopeful rise in my posture. I was anxiety personified.
I nodded.
"I need to yell my throat hoarse until the splitsecond before I start coughing and hacking. I need a day where I inflict all of the pain, where I rip through layers and crack skulls. I need smooth eyes and calm cheeks. okay? now do you get it?"
and I nodded again. I shifted my weight, right leg to left, and I felt the creaking echo through my hips.
"what the hell are you still standing here for?"
I was so sure that I lost the me with sweating palms and a knot in my throat, but the posture stayed. Breathing shallow enough to let on that I was affected by the selfish sun and by your razor insinuations, I swallowed anxiety personified. I pushed through. I became acceptance and calm subsumption.
"I catch the bus here. I'm just waiting for the forty-three and then I'll be gone"
