-Attends-moi au drapeau rouge Che. Ne bouge pas.
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She is running to meet me, I think I’m falling in love.
-Je te vois.
I see her. I know I like her. I want permission to touch her.
The customary cheek to cheek, anyone can have.
“Oui, ça va et toi?”
Actually I was really hurt that you did not answer my text message asking what time to meet you. I had just about given up on this budding connection a half-hour past the originally appointed rendez-vous time. Why weren’t you concerned with the time?
“Je connais pas cet endroit, alors, nous promènerons?"
I’m happy I’m here with you. I’d walk with you anywhere, in any city, on any street, at any time. I’d do anything to spend more time with you.
“Je suis désolée, j’étais avec ma cousine et j’ai pas rendu compte que le message a pas envoyé.”
"T’inquiète pas, c’est pas grave."
I believe you, it’s fine, I’m happy now. I want us to be alone.
She is leading me around the Bastille, the chaos, the people, the heat. It’s difficult to walk side-by-side. I think of India. I would like to go there. The traffic of corps, so many people. We walk as close as possible, without touching, though strangers bump into us without noticing. I wonder what would happen if we touched. I wonder if I might go to India someday with her.
“Alors, tu n’aimes pas la femme de ton frère?”
"Non. C’est compliqué."
I don’t even know how to recount the fustercluck of my brother’s love life and his lesbian wife in English, I cannot do it in French. Not with you.
We are lesbians, together, here to find true love. She will contaminate our sphere if I invoke her story. The earth will not grow our seeds if I speak her betrayal, it will be unyielding.
"Soul of my soul of the soul of a hundred universes,
be water in this now-river, so jasmine flowers
will lift on the brim, and someone far off
can notice the flower-colors and know
there's water here."