“She showed up, tragic and beautiful, with a kind of necessity for which I was grateful to her. She was wearing a dark red dress, and a very pretty black hat with a net, which gave her a fateful look – the look of a woman still young but already marked by life.” – Simone de Beauvoir, from Letters to Sartre
A look to the sky and my eyes could not tell the difference between the light that stood before me, and the one that hovers above all our days. I stood immediately in awe of the rise that comes in rays through the blinds: My mind quickened, “She must like tea, why have I not readied tea already.” She could read my elated spirit, for I basically spoke to her of it from the doorway as I sent out the telegram about how she got me reflecting on the way I stood, and checking my breathing to make sure I was doing that still. She laughed and said, “I know you only get this disheveled at the start, you’re really much cooler than you know.” At this time I could feel my Amygdala pulling on my color, what a good read – I settled in to myself and shot her a smile, “Dear you do know me better than most, let me get you a cuppa.” As I turned and motioned her to come with me I realized that this is as far as we’d ever come. Never did she go further than the foyer, no, she had always been content with standing in my doorway; Playing me like Philip Glass’ Metamorphosis I – And then heading off before II-V could be wrung out – What audience could go on content after such a whetting of tongue? She came to a soft halt, “Dirty, won’t you take my hand for such a momentous occasion as this? “Tea?” I wryly remarked as I turned my gaze to her. Twitterpated, she shot me some quick sarcasm, “Yes, tea; All the tea in China.” Now isn’t it, “Not for all of the tea in China? Laughing as she tugged my arm, she gave me a look that to this day is crystal clear, one of those “You won’t pass this up, not for all the tea in China,” looks.
Now hold on, hold on, hold on.
What is it?
Are you kidding me right now?
I don’t kid.
You are completely off the wall.
I really am.
You know what I meant mate.
Oh, I read?
That is not a look you can read.
I swear it.
Yes, tea; All the tea in China.
I didn’t pass.
I bet you sure as hell wouldn’t
Well I did say.
Not for all of the tea in China.
Come on now!
Hold no jealousy over a nap that lends no rest for it is as empty as the gesture of closing my eyes to sleep these days. She walked in on me in a dark place