Ron comes running up to me over the dunes. He’s had his hair braided and, Christ!, I had no idea his hair was so long and so exquisite and so shimmery (maybe’s he’s got extensions?) and it’s billowing and bouncing and he’s getting closer, and closer...
“My God,” he says, panting. “I thought you were lost. I thought I was never going to find you.
I drop him off at his hotel and he throws his arms around me and kisses my neck.
“I had so much fun,” he sighs.
I walk into my office where a fax’s unfurling——
“I am so happy, Ron” it reads, and below that a couple of confidently drawn
The phone’s ringing. It’s Ron:
“I need to see you. Where are you reading next? St. Louis? Chicago? Borneo? I don’t care, wherever——I’ll be there with bells and whistles on.
I’m feeling giddy. It’s so nice to be pursued like this. And Ron must be able to sense this. This is what the phrase “meant for each other” must mean I think.
“O, Rauan,” Ron purrs. “I just want to make you happy. I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all. Just please don’t kiss and tell,... O, hell, I don’t care——go ahead and kiss and tell... I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I am obsessed. You are my North, my South, East, my fcking West. My working week. Damnit, Rauan, I have stopped all the clocks, Rauan. I have cut the dog. I have silenced the pianos. And love, my love, Rauan, is not going to die! It will last forever. It will last forever. I am the stars, Rauan. The packed-up moon, Rauan. This mantled sun, Rauan. These circles moaning. Public doves. Black cotton gloves. O, Rauan!”