We loved each other so much that sometimes it hurt, even
when we were close. I wanted to be her and she wanted
to be me. Sex never felt complete, and afterwards we talked
carelessly about easy subjects to avoid discussing the ache that
bruised us both. So one day, in the kitchen, she cut me and I
cut her; gently, slowly, too easily. It was the knife we used for
onions and our tears were painful but expectant. We dripped
the blood into coffee mugs, then bandaged up and went to bed.
We fucked and there were stars but we saw different
The next day the blood was dry and rusty in the
mugs. We scraped it diligently onto sheets of paper. We looked
at each other silently and lowered our heads to snort each
other's dust. Afterwards we both carried a pouch of powdered
blood, and when we were low and apart we would retire to a
restroom and sniff, sniff, sniff.
Oh my darling, we went on and on. Our blood was
there always, red and viscous, burnt ochre and blowaway. My
blood in your nasal membranes, filtering into your capillaries,
finding its inexorable way to your heart. Your blood. My
nose. My heart. We belonged to each other and we had made
our love tangible, real; something that could be weighed and
consumed, taken and enjoyed.
It wasn't a surprise when we used the scalpel to shave
flesh from each other's upper arms. We dried the flesh, though
it was difficult to dessicate it completely. We used the airing
cupboard. The powdered flesh was better ; cocaine
to blood's speed.
Did it end badly? Did we go too far? Was our love
replaced or deleted by want or need? In losing ourselves in
each other did we lose the essence in ourselves that the other
loved? Did time simply bore us with its slow wearing-down?
I have no answers to any of those questions. But now,
sitting here in the kitchen, I admit I am scared of the knife,
that I can't dig deeply enough to draw blood, that I will have
nothing in the morning but red, raised scratches on my arm.
I don't want her to cut me.
Did we kill each other, or are we living happily; but only
as happily as you are?