Thursday, December 21, 2006

A Night of Healing in a Strange Place

"I love your energy," he told me
while his hands were clasped against my palm
"It's child-like
and graceful--
I love it," he told me
his voice soft
but mostly just tired
but with so much softness
that my eyes grew heavy
and my lips sagged

He was leading my hand to move in small circles
fast circles, my fingers violently shaking
to and fro, left and right,
going everywhere
then stop--
my hands feeling once again his warmth
and the cold of mint
on his and my palms

But I couldn't do as he wanted me to do
I could not sway my hands wildly--
the way one with a child-like and graceful energy would
They just fell heavy and dead
on his warm and
then tight grasp
Because I could feel everything
--all too aware:
of his warm, roughened, oiled hands on my palm
travelling the short length of my arms
his warm hands on my outstretched neck
resting against the dip in my collarbone
then sliding back to my nape again
squeezing and kneading
--sometimes his warm hands growing rough
and pulling and tugging at my hair
but he would let go
and the warm and rough of his hands
once again returns to the back of my neck
once again electricity runs under my skin
and I
out of nervousness
with my neck outstretched
pulling forward

His hands took me by the shoulders
as he laid me back
and rested my head on his crouched body
trying to carry my weight
all the while his hands were on my arms
on my neck
and my back was resting on his knee

Sometimes long strands of his hair
would brush against my lips
my cheeks
my closed eyes
I could not resist opening my eyes
and looking into his face
but his eyes would not meet mine
All I saw was white
He was in a trance
Trying to find my ailment
Trying to mend me from my ailment
His hands crawling down my back
then on my neck
then cupping my elbows
his grip tightening
sending little bolts crawling across my arms

I just stared at him
A little girl
just someone
who needed to be healed
by the warm hands of this