Words Know Everything

Last night I went out to eat dinner alone in this quiet city. I’m in Germany installing my LOVE SOUNDS exhibition. I worked while I ate, prepping for the film class I’m teaching this spring: syllabus, class notes, readings. My waiter was a cute young blonde (I’m not into blondes). Sweet, curious, soft spoken. He asked me lots of questions. I went home. Within half an hour he tracked me down on Facebook, wrote me a message, sent me a friend request. Offered to show me the city. I told him he was “a good and fast detective.”

Then I dreamt of you.

We reunited but there were so many tears, so much strife. You were shaking like a leaf and wanted to get away from me. “Not this again” you said and then I kissed you and you let go of your stupid scared resistance. We kissed for a long time. Hungry. Inevitable, we said. That’s why we stayed away. Your cheeks went red. Your tears all over your face like in the restaurant scene at the end of Blue is the Warmest Color. Then you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and said, “I’ll be right back.” You looked happy as you looked at me. Happy because of me. But you never came back. You never came back. Fanny Howe: “Words know everything. That’s why my fingers shake.”

Crossposted with Love Dog.

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