poesy

in the early dark, i floated awake from the most comforting dream...

he was leaning over me, close. his face fixed with that expression of intensity i know so well. he was tattooing me. since it was a dream, there was no sound from the needle, no smell of ink or flesh and no pain. his indelible inscription flowed as effortlessly as with a calligraphy brush. his slender hands moved slowly and surely. he wasn't marking me with his thoughts, but giving an external and permanent expression to what lies within me. over my left breast, over my heart, he languidly engraved the french poesy i brought him long ago: "vous et nul autre". (you and no other.) that 15th-century "nul", from the latin "nullus", meaning "none, not any", to me infers more decisive negation of any possibility of another than the more common modern word of "non" which simply means "no". the connotation strangely brings me much solace. strange, i say, because of where i now find myself. those strong hands that mean so much and still hold my heart are reaching elsewhere of late...