Brian’sPoems

Reinventing the B:Drive

Saturday, only two weeks ago, I stepped off the plane and into her arms. I think she was expecting much more, but what she got was a trembling boy full of thought, a weir of emotions. In our embrace she could feel the thumping in my chest. (A better writer would have me come ashore, reminiscent of General MacArthur, with a flower in hand and the words: “This virtuous woman shall be taken, and I am the man to do it,” reverberating from my lips.)
And so began my strange odyssey into life, love, and sex. It is astonishing what fear can do for people - not too much though - just more than is necessary. Fear is an easy emotion, much like loneliness. (With fear and loneliness it is always best to have a little patience.)
In the coming hours the awkwardness would wane but not her beauty. To know someone and to appreciate them from a distance is much different than having them in your pocket. To be fair to her I don’t know women, and quite possibly I am a fool. My mind was so completely open that day I couldn’t possibly escape its reaches. (How would you feel if you looked into someone’s eyes and saw a room the size of a black hole sparsely decorated with a couple of ideas, thoughts, and colorless feelings?)
We kissed, but we talked more, and without real depth. It was like being in a city of the future where it is difficult to concentrate. In the preceding weeks she had worked tirelessly to pry me open, and when her wandering parakeet finally arrived, with equal effort she labored to stem the flood of my emotions.
Our phone calls were deep, relaxing, and occasionally funny; the emails, too. But where were those feelings in Chicago? I felt like the poet who had drowned while trying to kiss the moon in the water. What to do? What could we do? Our two worlds were on a windy city collision course. Accordingly we abandoned whiskey in favor of champagne and its misty promises. In doing so we were able to find a peculiar ecstasy on Sunday.
When it comes to women I am always a gentlemen, but boastfully admit there are exceptions. Unfortunately this weekend was not one of those occasions. I speculate when I say, much to her chagrin.
We took solace in our physical compatibility. In this arena I was little more than a pupil. Even in my confusion I must have done something right, for as the chasm opened between us so too developed an understanding that melted the bronze from my heart.
Bidding her farewell at that same airport where she rescued me was difficult only because we had figured out a connection. Our chance encounter months ago had now produced a rainbow. From her light came a physical connection which heretofore I had mistakenly regarded with the reverence of religion. And just maybe my raindrops surprised her a little because I don’t think she was ever allowed to feel the tiny sensations in life.
I applaud anyone willing to follow a beckoning love. Yes, I know these are the words of a hyper-romantic, but that is part of me. If two worlds are able to become one, then you must never take the time to make up your mind about people.