LUMINOUS
- Come on.
- Wait, just a second, I'm closing the window.
- Why didn't you tell me you were cold?
- No, no, I'm fine, I'm not cold, don't worry, I'm coming.
After he closed the window, the man in underwear, who actually
felt very cold, jumped over the bed causing a big noise from the old bed springs and then covered
himself.
- Do you see? You were cold..!
- Come on, read.
- Wait, just a second.
- What?
The girl, who lay in bed under the cover, woke up and lit all the candles in the room;
there were so many and she lit them all. Then she turned off the light and jumped onto the bed causing big a noise.
Finally, she got closer to him and said:
- Ok, it seems perfect now.
- Sure. Come on, what are you waiting for?
But she was looking at him smiling like a baby. That's why the man asked:
- What's wrong now?
- Nothing. Well. One thing. Will you close your eyes please?
- I can close my eyes, but will you read then, please?
She nodded, the man closed his eyes and the girl jumped up from the bed causing a big noise and went into the bathroom.
And from the bathroom she kept crying:
- Wait, wait, don't open!
When she came out - with her "DA-DAAA!!" - she wore some white
underwear, very provocative and moved her body in a very strange and ridiculous way.
- Do you like it? I thought it was the right thing for this wonderful occasion, do you like it?
- Yes.
- Yes what? Do you know how much I spent for this stuff? I hoped you would like it.
- I do, I swear, I love it! It just drives me crazy, really, c'mon, come here. And she went into the bed, softly this time.
And they got closer, and kissed a little. Then she said:
- Ok honey, I know, you're right, we're reading (we’ll read) your stories now. She sat on the bed, stared at him
one more time with that baby smile and began to read. She read a lot, she read all night long, she read with love
and attention, and the man observed her mouth telling his own stories and he watched his stories going around
that small dark room. They were just walking around, taking shape, and they sometimes stopped
over the lights of the candles. And he wished they stood there forever. It seemed to him that
his tales now were more beautiful, he wondered how he could have written such beautiful things,
it seemed impossible to him he wrote those stories so charming.
He even forgot her white underwear and she probably forgot it
too. For she kept reading till papers over her legs were less and
less. But ah that point something happened, at that point he felt
confused. He didn't know anymore if he loved more the stories he wrote or his girlfriend.
Where was more poetry? he asked himself. What was more worth loving.
That's what he wanted to discover that night, the daily revelation he wanted to achieve that day. Although he knew that was nonsense: a girl is something, a well written and well structured story is something else, no mess, you can love both. Nonetheless he felt he had to make a decision, he had to understand and make a decision. All his life he had tried to separate things, catalogue events, feeling, sensations, emotions; that was the way he thought literature had to be done: a vivisection of bleeding feelings. But then, right while he was thinking such thoughts, something else happened: he realized, he found out what he was looking for. He stared at her, who was still reading, and understood.
Poetry is everywhere. Sometimes it's where you would never expect. Sometimes it not where it's supposed to be. But surely the best poetry is the kind which grows spontaneously. That's what he realized that night.
Poetry is one, although it takes infinite shapes and images;
and separating these images is one of the most insane thing a
writer can do. When he stopped these thoughts she had just finished reading the last paper. She keeps it for a while on her legs, like something precious, something delicate and fragile. Then she stared at him. Smiled a little like a baby, put the papers on the shelf, and embraced him without saying anything.
They fell asleep while the candles were still burning, and by
the shadow the candles projected you would say there was something else in that room.
They didn't make love that night.
and he was happy the same. and she was happy the same.
