Friday, October 08, 2004

company

my companion this friday night has an enviable capacity to relax so completely she can disappear. let her loose and she'd soon be a memory. she hasn't the least interest in maintaining walls or boundaries; she'd as soon dissolve into whomever and whatever she meets. that's self-assurance. that's confidence. damn, i envy that. that ability to let go everything, no hedged bets, high-wire act without a net.

she's so fond of self-dissapation, in fact, i keep her in a glass. she doesn't mind. there's one way in and one way out. it's for my own benefit that I do this, of course. i like to spend a little time with her before she goes. before she loses herself in her own curiosity for the world. jealously, i keep her in the palm of my hand. she looks great in low light. just a dim table lamp-- or, better yet, firelight. her pale amber color is richest in firelight, so sensuous and inviting.

for all her transitory nature, she makes a powerful impression and a delight to the senses. tonight, we've spent our time together reminiscing. she's good at that. she'll help you remember things. spend too much time with her and she'll help you forget them, too. for a while. i got to thinking of my father tonight, now almost a year gone. maybe i called on her to help me remember. i won't spend enough time with her to forget; i doubt i could, in any case-- or even want to. and she's patient. she'll listen thoughtfully or just sit quietly while i warm her with my hand.

this is my favorite glass. one of two, actually. they're just the right shape. less than three inches in width and height, with gently rounded bottoms that fit snugly in the palm. they once belonged to an aunt of mine; i acquired them from her years ago-- i don't even remember when anymore. these two and a few others, but these are my favorites, a pair for two such as myself. she'd be happy to split herself between them, too, and keep company for both. we could converse, watch the fire, reminisce; and we'd each consult with her now and again, lubrication for memory, golden goddess of impermanence.

tonight's generous companion, my glass of irish whisky.

2 Comments:

At 10/09/2004 12:41 PM, Blogger tess said...

Rather gorgeous, Algy. But lonely. And I suspect that somehow, in the harsh light of morning, she didn't look so much like a good friend as like a bad headache. ;)

 
At 10/09/2004 11:41 PM, Blogger Algernon said...

Au contrere, mon ami.
I never our friendship that way, she and I. Just a wee dram to lubricate the memory and warm the cockles of me aching heart.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home