There are many kinds of partners. I hear the word over and over and capitalize it in my head, like all German nouns. As if just the idea of partnership held the same status as an actual partner. Ich liebe dich. Wirklich.
In life as in language. Or is it the other way around?
Three actors and three music stands, but they only ever speak. The hands gesture or hang. It makes little difference.
When they start to argue, their speech turns into song.
The stage: a glossy black grid with each component square illuminated around its edges and intersections. The mirror image of each actor hangs from their feet, as if they stand on the surface of a lake.
I once dreamt of you standing on this same stage with the lights cut, your arms folded. I turn on a lamp, but the reflections obscure you just as much as the darkness did.
Scientists used to believe the eyes didn’t perceive light, but emitted it. Scientists now believe these previous scientists were not scientists at all.
Kliegs flapping open like the mouths of fish. Reading lamps.
Some shades of black are more expensive than others.
This darkness feels warm, even when blue lights eat away at its edges.
This darkness feels, if not natural, then at least non-synthetic. There is something wholesome about it.
Many nights, after you turned the lights out, I could still feel you looking at me, even with my face turned away. I pretended not to notice. Some softness I wanted to preserve.
A softness I didn’t understand.
I don’t understand.
Annelyse for DRAFF