\u201cGrayish skies washed away my colors.
\nDuring the long conversations by myself and with myself
\nI\u2019ve embraced the loneliness
\nthat was brought by dark scary and? Clouds.
\nI neither have the cloudbuster that Kate Bush has
\nnor the capablity of co-ll\/rr-ecting (the) energy (in me)
\nI\u2019m putting on my stockings in the toilet of a queer bar with glittery souls. I tear
\nthem apart by accident while wearing them on (typical me) and meanwhile my
\nstrap on shakes like a small dog\u2019s cute butt. Ready for my monologue. I prepare
\nmyself to step on the stage, where I usually try to get all the possible bravos, welove-
\nyous, can\u2019t-live-without-yous or can\u2019t-leave-without-yous. I forgot myself in
\norder to be on that stage to be a part of what is going around. I\u2019ve been flying
\nthrough various lands: I\u2019m still searching for my genie, though. Well, I\u2019m about to
\nhit the roof.
\nCrash\u2026 Brace\u2026 Brace\u2026\u201d D thought\u2026
\nA slight squeak of the old wood guides her towards the crime scene. No worries,
\nD says to all, we all misunderstood what sharing love is in the world of heteroformalities.
\nIt is not you: it is the very first kiss.
\nNow, D is looking around in the cafeteria of bad coffee and fake smiles. Among all
\nthe faces one attracts D\u2019s attention. Ze plays with zir hair carefully while smiling
\nat D. Is it a sign of flirtation? The other looks at D, then turns back, sees the other
\nand immediately understands what\u2019s going on. Our protagonist is the one to put
\nthe blame on as well as the one sitting on the other side of the table. Yet, we will
\nnever know what set them apart. D holds the tears that might fall down any
\nminute.
\nThey met in a bus. During the 2,5 hours of in this non-place, they talked about
\ndancing. They smiled into each other\u2019s eyes, their legs slightly rubbed. With a
\nwish to transform a small talk to a certain look in the eye, they skipped wherethey-
\nare-froms or what-their-names-are; such hints inevitably appear on the
\nsurface. Short silences hung in the air, of course, but in general the flow
\ncontinued. The one near the window talked more \u2013 that\u2019s something that the one
\nnear the aisle always allows the other to do. In that way ze gives the
\nresponsibility to the other and looks like a good conversation partner, although
\nwhat ze does is only to moderate the words rather than adding something to it.
\nThey kept flirting; you know, the legs touch and none of them move. The one
\nnear the aisle tries to figure out if the warmth coming from the other\u2019s knee
\nmeans anything to the other or not. A lightning is seen from a distance. One of
\nthem put a new combination of words on the table:
\n\u201cThere is a specific exercise that I love. At first it makes you feel vulnerable as the
\nother should hold your naked body from the tailbone. You sit and put your
\nweight onto the hand as if it\u2019s a chair. The other feels the landscape of your
\nbottom \u2013 any kind of indentation or the roughness on your skin… At first you
\nthink it will be tough for that person to carry you. The instructor warns you to let
\ngo. You let go. The uncanny feeling that you don\u2019t know where it comes from still
\ndirects your presence. The other keeps showing the discomfort, because of not
\nbeing sure whether there is a sexual connotation or not. Ok, you both laugh \u2013 a
\nweird smile stays on your faces trying to ease the situation. Ok, you breath in and
\nout. The other keeps holding \u2013 both of your eyes are closed now. There is
\nwarmth slowly coming from your tailbone. A feeling blended with the smell of
\nyour favorite dish when you were a kid and the last time you saw your dad some
\nyears ago \u2013 wonder where he is \u2013 wraps your skin. Through time both limbs, the
\nother\u2019s arm and your ass, feel numb as a result of staying in the same position.
\nThen, you suddenly realize a sound: your own body silently cry and tremble.
\nApparently, that was how our moms were holding us when we were infants.\u201c
\nThe one sitting near the aisle didn\u2019t know what to say after this. They stayed in
\nsilence in this air-conditioned bus and listened to the sound of the wild
\nraindrops hitting the windows. From the mirror hung above in the middle of the
\naisle, the bus driver\u2019s slight anxiety shaping his face could be read.
\nThe avidity in their conversation couldn\u2019t find a spot for itself that would allow
\nthemselves to continue freely. However, the silence wasn\u2019t uncanny. On the
\ncontrary it reminded a moment that you\u2019d have with a close friend when you are
\nwatching television on the sofa. The one near the window broke the silence:
\n\u201cDid you know that the word genius comes from the word genie? In the old times
\nartists used to put the blame on their genie if they couldn\u2019t succeed \u2013 my genie
\ndisrupted me \u2013 or when they wanted to be humble \u2013 thanks to my genie I could
\ncreate this masterpiece. Their creation was personified through a genie. In that
\nway, they could distance themselves from the burdens of creativity and success.
\nI have a tattoo since the age of 19, the year that I\u2019ve decided to dance. It\u2019s a genie
\nwithout a face but with a smile. That smile reminds that the genie will guide me.
\nI just have to trust.\u201d
\nThey didn\u2019t think about the rest of the day and almost forgot about where they
\nwill head for when the bus arrives to the destination. They might never see each
\nother again. The one near the aisle thinks about getting the contact, but then
\ndecides not to. Ze needed to pee and went to this tiny plastic toilet. When ze
\ncame back to the seat the one near the window asked to exchange their contacts.
\nThey both smiled.
\n\u2026
\nD keeps looking around with a smile that has nothing to do with the real feelings
\ninside. The raindrops are leaking through the roof of the newly constructed
\nbuilding designed by a starchitect that was mentioned in the articles of
\nrenowned magazines.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cGrayish skies washed away my colors. During the long conversations by myself and with myself I\u2019ve embraced the loneliness that was brought by dark scary and? Clouds. I neither have the cloudbuster that Kate Bush has nor the capablity of co-ll\/rr-ecting (the) energy (in me) I\u2019m putting on my stockings in the toilet of a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":4302,"template":"","categories":[30,11],"class_list":["post-2574","stsp_text","type-stsp_text","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-issue-1","category-lyrik"],"yoast_head":"\n