One year ago tonight
you whispered
into my unhearing ears
with the flick of your tongue
across my lover’s desperate flesh
over oceans of thought, fear and lust
you joined that which was mine
while never knowing or desiring
my anatomy.
You, who knew not
to be yourself
except reflected in strange foreign eyes
which we have separately drowned in,
we have shared that beautiful body.
I am nothing to you
but an invisible partner
who plagues not your existence,
a ghost that is haunted
by tiny little deaths
which interred you both
on sweet Budapest fabrics
to the strains of Porgy and Bess.
You were musical phrases
that created a distinct melody
of an already exotic piece,
a hunger I may yet understand
but will never truly experience.
That night I was lost in your tonal pattern,
deafened by an overwhelming silence
which inspired want and hatred,
pity and indifference,
a longing that may never be satiated.
I say “your”
though the stress was not singular –
it was a harmony
that brought me to tears,
tore at my soul & ripped me apart,
boiling me down to my essence.
You were a crucible
by which all fear was melted away,
an intersection in which,
by way of paradox,
he and I were joined in honest surrender,
a yielding so keen
that it’s wounding pleasure
healed the breach,
sealed the rift,
and eased the strain
until nothing could keep us apart.
Written by Jason Wright
June 25, 2018
For Zsolt Krasznár & Aaron Sanko
