|So many, so fast, too short, sunrise is not a moment but a transient passage|
That we should ride, and see such things, say, one per each pedal turn 70 or 80 per minute. Pause, breathe in, remember, commit to that which just was for a moment. She was not in this one, but she is in every one, and I would freeze them all, if I could. Freeze a perfect infinite moment for we who are neither.
One day in one thousand, the canal is frozen solid at sunrise.
Her face lights up with morning fire, which fades so fast I'm not even sure I saw it.
How folly, how necessary, how sharp to look at the empty where the ephemeral slipped through my fingers.
If someone finds a single glove laying on the canal bank next to this ice bike, it was mine, and I don't need it, as I prefer to feel the cold wind making my fingers forget, become numb, so they feel less what they don't grasp. Perhaps they will learn their lesson this way, perhaps they will flutter their silly little finger pas de deux of laughter and forgetting one gloved parter and one with all skin bitten by the gelid air, and their frostbitten twisted shape will be a kind of frozen reminder, something real, something I do keep yet. Naked hand held up in the rising sun, tiger claw, drawing energy from its passing rays in combined renewal and forgetting. Yes it's a new day but what if I would freeze one moment of yesterday if I could?
That we would ever ride, like this, or like we were when that thought which I read crossed the sky of her face, unnamed, would stay there in this my-feeling-of-seeing it pass across, this I would freeze forever, please. I require nothing but that single sunrise, all else is gray.
In all my careful plans, the placement, the lighting has to be at this angle, pro-shadows, and she kept laughing at all my tedious machinations. Just press the button, take the photo, drop your glove if you can't feel it, move on, you can't really catch or hold it, she seemed to be saying. Just when I thought I had it, just when it seemed frozen there just as I had imagined you imagining me on that ride, the one I would ice down for good, the light of the rising sun was perfect, my finger above the button, the bird flew between us. That shadow bird. And all my Turneresque (jmw) reflective thoughts dissolved into something heavy in the form of a tiny blurred shape coming between us. Across her face drifted an expression I've never seen before. Longing? Forgetting? Love with a frostbitten edge? Gone now, but worth it all, I'm certain.
|I'm certain I saw this, and everything else I remember fading|