YOU FOUND MY KEYS
when my eyes were so full of tears I couldn't see. I could only hear you breathing..
ON AN ANGLE'S HIP - the end of the shelf where you always hung my belt, when it was not required any more. The buckle would wink at me across the room, reminding me of the stinging stripes you'd laid across my ass before you'd wept, and kissed them soft, moaning with your passion.
MOVED HALF THE FALLEN TREES that day when the wind had brought down two of your old ones, to lie with their broken bones knuckling into the soft earth, They'd missed the ancient wall which still held your teacup, left there when you'd laughed and pulled me into a clinch.
FROM THE FROZEN ROAD you'd sent me a photograph of the horses on the ranch. They were growing icicles on their manes like your hair's becoming more silver now. The sky was so light a blue it was almost invisible. Horses in snow trotting back to the ranch in that light, with you, rosy faced and looselimbed. I fell in love again with you. I do that every day.
THIS TRIP IS such a bore. I have to smile at empty faces, be my 'sexy self' when all I want is to see you, grinning like a lunatic at the back of the room, shining even through all the camera flashes making the far walls dark.
ALL I THOUGHT of that day when you said you were getting married again, was 'Doesn't he love me any more? I didn't know the reason why, not then - and I hurt.'
IT WOULD BE foolish to ask - yes. Of course it would, you'd just say, as you always do - 'Yep. of course.' But I know how much deeper those three words go. They are said limned in gold, with trumpets sounding.
AND WE'RE NOT going to go on arguing about whose turn it is to take, and whose to give. Let's just share it around. Head you first - tails me!
EVEN 1/2 WAY YET. Half way to what - Admitting that we cannot live without each other. I say it to myself So many times I have to say it. I cannot live without you. It's like I'm missing a great piece of myself when you aren't here, beside me. Filling me, Completing me.
IF I CAN'T TOUCH YOU I want to cry. I see you across the room and my hand hurts with wanting just to feel your jacket. There's a hunger to me that won't let me rest until I am beside, so accidentally,, - but they all know!
WITH SNOW-HUNG FIRS on Christmas cards and sprinkled twinkles . But with your own version of Santa Claus, riding his broomstick. Why a broomstick, Vigs?
OUR ONLY WITNESSES to all our lovemaking are the ghosts we are creating that will live behind us... long after we have gone from here. They will linger with the others that share these walls, and shame the distressed that yearn to haunt. We will ghostly moan and cry aloud as we do now. Happy ghosts we'll be.
CAN'T HAVE YOUR EYES looking any anyone else. Not with that look in them. You must only look at ME like that, when the other people are busy looking somewhere else. You look and I am weak, but my loins yell 'allelujah.'
WHEN EVERYONE'S ASLEEP the finger codes will have said. You will come to my room, and fuck the living daylights out of me, with your mouth stuffed full of my boxers so we don't annoy the rooms next door. I shall be lying there, ready, my heartbeat rising, and a sensitivity to my skin - as if I have been burnt.
Or, I will have to walk fully dressed down the corridor, take the lift down one floor or whatever... then nonchalanty stroll along until I come to 'that' door. Then my heart comes into my mouth, my hands sweat, and my fingers feel weak. I push on the door, and know I am complete again.
THEN THE FIRE'S ALMOST OUT. with some. You can see it in their eyes, a sort of dead effect. I've seen it too often looking at me across the breakfast table. When I see that half-glazed bored look, I know to expect the rows, the shoutings, the questions, and.... the 'You don't love me, you never have..' cries.
I have and I did, but something happened to the eyes. Your eyes have never once stopped glinting, laughing, weeping, lusting, darkening with your desire for me. Don't ever let your eyes look at me and tell me the fire is almost out.
YOU ASK THE UN-NAMED question every time. 'Are you?' and my reply is always and ever will be 'Yes .. Yours.' To take, to hold, to love you. Closer into me than my own blood, my entrails, I am yours. You should not have to ask, and yet - you do.
ATTRACTIONS TO LEAVE TOWN - I can think of many. The peace to be found elsewhere, the fresh air, the sound of wind in pines. and your laughter as you try to climb a tree because I wanted that one leaf.
BUT KEEP CHECKING the mail because I shall continue to send you nonsenses, just to imagine your smile, your silly grin, and often your laughter as you kiss whatever it is I have sent you, wrapped around my heart to keep.
IF I'M STILL AROUND in a hundred years from now, I don't think WE will have changed, but whatever will the world be like? Will we all be equipped with plugins to recharge our bodies, and to change our clothes - will we wipe a finger across or down ourselves to reclothe the being? I hope not, I like to stroke my fingers down your chest and your belly, watching the skin twitch as I reach the sides above your hips where you are ticklish. I don't want to change your boxers, I want to take them off with my forefinger, and flick your dick with my middle one as I reach to taste you
.
SHOULD WE SIDESTEP going to that Premiere Party? I think it would be much better to stay here, drinking our own brew and listening to our own voices singing the Chip Butty Song.
PUTTING FINGERS TO the piano keys. Your hand and mine, in harmony, as we are. You pound out the base notes and I try to emulate your trills up here in the treble, and then you laugh, and I laugh, and some poor composer sighs with relief because we are kissing, not killing his composition. I like to watch you with your
WORDS TRACING LIPS THAT are just being touched by the tip of a pink tongue. You've forgotten a phrase, Einauldi is difficult to read all in one's mind; he repeats so often in a secret key, a minor then a major... he is like your smile - always the same but forever different, Coming to the same conclusion.
WOULD INFORM US? If anything happened to either of us. Of course. You are on the list of my next-of-kin. You'd know at the same time as the girls. It won't be necessary... we'll always be alive - together.
ONCE SAID I'D MISSED a huge part of my life, between Henry and meeting you. That isn't quite true, I did feel. I was alive, but not that sort of alive with the tingle, the very necessity of seeking, wondering if I'd ever find....
YOU EVERY INSTANT so important to me. I was reaching out to the whole universe, searching. Then you walked into the airport, and I needed to breathe again. I was alive again.
BEFORE WE'D MET. I knew we would meet. That was why I was searching. Looking for my completion. My wholeness.
NOW BELIEVE WE KNEW that we would meet. It was inconceivable that it couldn't have happened. Some things are irrevocable and paths we never envisaged rise up and lead us. Make us walk, make an inevitable happenstance exist.
HOW SAD WE'D BE APART if we hadn't met. We'd both be half men, half beings, only half alive.. That would be worse than sadness. That would be living death, and I am not ready to die, Neither are you. We'll sometimes be apart, but now, we cannot be sad.
Viggo Mortensen's poem -
APART.
YOU FOUND MY KEYS
ON AN ANGLE'S HIP
MOVED HALF THE FALLEN TREES
FROM THE FROZEN ROAD.
THIS TRIP IS
ALL I THOUGHT
IT WOULD BE
AND WE'RE NOT
EVEN 1/2 WAY YET.
IF I CAN'T TOUCH YOU
WITH SNOW-HUNG FIRS
OUR ONLY WITNESSES -
CAN'T HAVE YOUR EYES
WHEN EVERYONE'S ASLEEP,
THEN THE FIRE'S ALMOST OUT.
YOU ASK THE UN-NAMED
ATTRACTIONS TO LEAVE TOWN
BUT KEEP CHECKING
IF I'M STILL AROUND.
SHOULD WE SIDESTEP
PUTTING FINGERS TO
WORDS TRACING LIPS THAT
WOULD INFORM US?
ONCE SAID I'D MISSED
YOU EVERY INSTANT
BEFORE WE'D MET.
NOW BELIEVE WE KNEW
HOW SAD WE'D BE
APART
Summary: I have read Viggo's poems until I know them by heart, which he breaks unceasingly and always. So I had a need to be dreadfully soppy and romantic and get My Boys together as I wish...
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1523 Read: 742
Published: 27 Jan 2013 Updated: 27 Jan 2013