30 December 2008

a journey to another time

“Vivamus mea Claudia”

Let us live and love not listening to old men's talk.
Suns will rise and set long after our little light has gone away to darkness.
Kiss me again and again.
Let me kiss you a hundred times,
a thousand more,
again a thousand without rest,
losing count,
so no one can speak of us and say they know the number
of our kisses.
-Gaius Valerius Catullus

a horse-drawn carriage in central park
[central park, new york]

21 December 2008


the plane is on the move,
and the traces of the love we had in places
are turning in my mind
-airport, the motors

taking off from aéroport marseille provence
[marignane, france]

au revoir france

I waited inside the bus at Gare Routiere, looking outside wistfully as the last leaves of autumn clung to Aix-en-Provence's trees.

Outside, a couple was saying goodbye to each other, with whispers and kisses and longing glances. The man must have said something funny, because at that moment they both laughed. But when their eyes met, I could see how scared they both were, how hard both of them were trying to be brave enough to say goodbye.

It could have been me. It was the exact feeling that I had-- the sorrow of leaving and knowing this was it. The yearning, the wishing that I had more time.

But the world will spin madly on, even when you feel like standing still.

The bus started and I watched as they said their final goodbye. As the man boarded the bus, he pressed his hand against the window, staring at the woman even as the bus pulled away.

The bus rounded the corner, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of La Rotonde, its waters glistening in the morning sun.

Then it was gone.

The man ran to the back of the bus, waving to his girlfriend as the bus passed her solitary figure on the street.

But soon she faded away, along with my last vision of Aix-en-Provence. All that was left was the sound of the man crying softly to himself.

That was when I started to cry, too.