Screw No.  93

Mood: Desire
Place: Train
Location: Berlin to Amsterdam
Date: 13th of December 2007
News: 2007 data confirms warming trend


This one is hard to relinquish, just like you…
I let the screw dislodged from your apartment rest in
my hand for a few minutes. Feel its cold metal against my skin as I
briefly hold back in preparation to let go.

Kiss its head then quickly undo a screw securing a handle to a toilet wall on the 1.38pm Berlin – Amsterdam intercity train before replacing it with the screw
from your Berlin Apartment – 48 hours have passed since I removed it.
It’s now 10 past two in the afternoon on the December 13, 2007 and the
train is pulling into another station.

So… are you in love you asked me. Why did you ask me?
My father once gave me a book about love written by an author with a
name similar to the town that now is passing me by. Stendal. A town
glanced through a toilet window, a book unread, written on a mysterious
subject… love. Strange patterns are circulating in my head. Your
birthday, that“horror” scope that falls on the same date as my
father, the second of September and…

nothing… A coincidence? The dance a search for meaning
no longer able to keep up all night.

So are you in love? You asked me. With who? With
you? Yes! I wanted to say yes.

I said nothing… My words souvenirs from a
familiar territory, a complex necklace made with the same atoms
that you are made of… familiar stranger. A keepsake for your mind
made from contradictions. The longing to connect and the fear. I
know it well. These particles of longing. What are they made of? The
three windows in your room, grey sky, your sparkling eyes..

I want to drink you again, over and over. Firework in
my mouth, distant

There is an unexpected ache in my heart, an army of
longing is invading me, surprising me, betraying me, unsettling
me, possessing me and evicting me from myself. Emotions and memories
turn inside of me as I turn the key in the hole of eternity. Doors
leading to doors, opening up to rooms that open up to other rooms. A
million different versions of myself beckoning me to follow parallel
lives that tear me apart.

I feel a sense of displacement and recognition as I turn the screw,
inserting the screw from your flat into this new hole.It is easy, it’s
slightly smaller and it does not take much force to fix it into its
new location.

Three days ago we were strangers, the day after we
watched films in bed… and now, here I stand, in this toilet, undone,
the walls are blue. It is still light outside, grey sky, the windows
in your eyes.

Here I stand, undone, while your toxic persuasion
slips in between “HIM” that waits for me on a platform and “ME” who is
travelling in “the wrong direction” with a force that rips a crack in the dream of
forever… and sucks me through to the other side, to
the other me…

the other “YOU”