A Dream's Infinity

Loretta... Who are you, why will you be my prophetic moment... Every man has a big forbidden dream, a tragic madness... “The one who bears until the end, he will be redeemed”. Really? The crystal globe’s premonition...The accident... A late autumn, a magic sob, a red, incandescent color... A verdict. How can I be saved, if I haven’t even met you before...

My steps in a stylish lighted room. You, dressed in just a white linen, on a sofa...The madness of the colors, the basic instinct... The abandon of the perfume… the final verdict. I will go insane, definitely... “I tried to kill the pain, but only brought more... (so much more)... I'm dying, praying, bleeding, screaming... Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?...”. (Evanescence - My Tourniquet).

Ended by myself, deadly hurt by the others, in a desperate search of the divinity. Of the meaning. “But take courage… I have conquered the world”. Oh, yes, you, Jesus, the spotless God, who has suffered for me… But me, sinful, crushed, obsessed with a magic name, terrified by an imaginary sentence, will I ever find enough power to devote myself to the Light? To fight a legion of demons? Loretta... You are tearing me of, you are whipping my senses, you make me bigger than the abyss’ poet… How can I resist, it will be utterly impossible to me...

I was facing the lions from the ring with bare hands. My belief was so powerful that I could have tamed them using only my acts of a hurry mime on a too small stage. Then you looked at me from the gallery, seductive, although innocent, you awake in me the man from the empty beach... I collapsed like a cloth, paralyzed, then I was covered in an inhumane fear, only then seeing the too terrestrial dimension of the beasts that were roaring. I knew I had unwittingly betrayed my God. Goodbye, Loretta, I will find you again in death, your prophetic moment was worth it...

...But no, everything is a more bizarre than David Copperfield’s illusion, the lions are not anymore, nor the ring... A classy room, me in a black suit...You, in white linen... I am going insane. The forbidden bet of the visions...The morning’s hours, the moments approaching the dew... Your perfume... Who betrayed who?

Next to you, there will never be agony after ecstasy...But it could be too late to correct something, to absorb the dew, the living water...You are the last of my forgot passions, the last of my forbidden fantasies...You are the damnation with angelic face...

I will never resist you, I know this. I desire you like the plant desires its sap. I have intuited you in every dual experience that I had.

"My God... My tourniquet... Return to me salvation... Do you remember me? Lost for so long..."

*

Fragrant forests, endless lakes, pure blue of the sky... Holy Spirit in the leaves which are covered with dew… One of my selves...

Hurried steps in the middle of the night, late regrets, incandescent promises...The latch of an entrance door. The big hurt ego, you only covered with a white scarf… My seductive grace, you rolling on the sofa… It’s the same story from the begging of the world, which repeats itself on and on, like in a silent movie’s scenario...

No, I can’t give you certainties. The philosopher from me has stayed three months in an asylum looking to offer you a birthday gift. All I can do is return you 10 times, 100 times, 1000 times the enchanted moment, the perfume, the ecstasy, everything… I am an excellent player. The idea is that the scarf, the linen, the hairclip to be white...

It was an earthquake of degree 7. I didn’t got panicked, I was preparing to get the forgiveness. I didn’t even move. Then you’ve flipped over me, white, hot, passionate...The only naive being who awakens carnal desires. Of course I froze, I thought the whole world would disappear, that after a few seconds I would be inert under a ton of rubble… It’s just another episode from the ring with lions.

But it has also been an illusion, the hour has not yet come. I came in a sumptuously room, with a sofa...The tic-tac of the clock, the background music… Me wearing an “Alain Delon” suit, you being similarly lascivious, naked under a stark white bedsheet...I have poured the champagne over my head, laughing, then I felt your Dior perfume...

“My soul cries for deliverance“... “Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?...

*

At least Judas has done it for 30 silvers. Stupidly, barbarian, meaningless, but he paid his price. I will never pay it, because there is no exit in this strange maze, and after I will kiss your white skin I won’t ever desire to kill myself...Loretta, why are you so unreal, why are you the only angel who has ever seduced a human who adores the flawless suits, the deadly looks, the white linen? How could you curse me to flatter you like this, why am I afraid someday I will break you like a china which forgot to kiss the infinity...

I don’t deserve the oblivion, the hardness.

I am the big crazy man who is waiting for you prior your birth...

Loretta, swear that after our moment there will be nothing more...Nothing...Void, absolute comminution… Angelic songs… Am I asking too much?

You know that I won’t desire to write anymore, nor to face the quake, nor my own visions, nothing...This world is too small, too defined, too barbarian for our story. A story written in white from the beginning until the end. But I haven’t chosen to be human, I didn’t tailor my suits...

I want to superpose you and the angel from the dream, yes, now you know, for this I’m risking to betray my God… I am a hand-picked player, you only have to keep your ingenuity, perfume and white scarves.

Then we’ll meet on the only lake. If the judgement won’t come too soon, in a too compressed time.

Loretta, you know the dreams touch the infinity, you are the only one who knows...

*

The clock’s tic-tac. The countdown of the humanity. A night drowned in breaking dawn. The bet of a writer who was killed by his own ghosts.

Maybe you’ll never know the real price… Please, keep the moment, just this. Be as natural as usual, angelic-evil, in your white scarf...But no, was the evil in me by any chance? I no longer understand anything.

I will love you among crystal glasses, in a fancy room, in an unreal scenery, in a timeless place...You can’t take this dream from me, it’s the only thing I still have...It’s my breeze, my flame, my God...

I faced the evil with a single cross, like Saint Anton. I wasn’t afraid, I swear I didn’t fear anything or anyone. I was rock-steady.

Then I woke up in the same room, dressed in the same Alain Delon suit. I still had the cross in my hand.

You looked at me, fascinated, as usual, waiting for my touch, lying on the fateful sofa. I couldn’t take my eyes off of your splendid red linen.

Then, in the moment of truth, I understood. Loretta, what did you do? What did you do?, I shouted defeated, collapsed. I just told you...I am a hand-picked player. You just had to keep the ceremony.

This can't happen, you sold yourself to Satan to have me forever, from fear that the judgement will tear us apart, how didn’t I foresee this...How didn’t I realize that this would happen next...

I filled the carpet with tears. I felt fear, a fear that I haven’t felt in my entire life, not even in the ring with lions, not during the earthquake, not even when I thought that you would miss the date.

Loretta… I mumbled lost.

Too good. Without you, my life is meaningless. I slowly advanced, like a convict to the scaffold.

When I touched your naked shoulders with my lips, I felt something that had never happened before. I felt like being shocked. I looked in the mirror and I saw again your red incandescent linen.

By putting a superhuman effort, I turned back to the doorstep, where the clock was ticking. I took the cross again in my hands. “Go, Satan! For it is written, 'You shall worship the Lord your God, and serve him only'”.

Hours later, I woke up in a side park, stretched on a bench. The daylight was blinding me, like that was the first time I had contact with it. I knocked off some noisy kids and I got into a taxi.

*

The last journey. The moment of truth. The nostalgic shout of the seagulls or the screams of the death sentenced. The sea breeze or the suffocating gas. The infinity mirage or the killing of the moment. The stainless white or the incandescent red.

I knew there were two worlds, Loretta, I knew I were dual... But I bet everything, what a lurid charade you made for me, exactly like on the verdict. On the divine verdict. I told you I’m a hand-picked player.

You only had to... I teared up. To let the Creator to raise our love where I couldn’t do it. This was the secret. So simple, any writer who saw the morning’s dew after a night of hallucinations could tell you that. But I couldn’t confess, I would have broken the game’s rule, the verdict’s fairness.

Now you make me ride like a deadly snowboard to the own destiny. To the final confrontation, like a Russian roulette.

I got in the room, after the door’s letch. The same fancy scenery, the same Alain Delon suit. The sofa was empty.

I sat down and I slowly drank from the black coffee, with mechanical gestures. I was staring at the mirror that was the witness of our unequaled story, at the so familiar furniture.

I slowly breathed in and the great waiting began. I knew you would come also this time. The approximate ten minutes will be a true eternity, more tormenting than the mountain of Sisif, more tragic than the ether’s inhaling.

Because I don’t know, Loretta, it’s the first time when I don’t know what color your linen will be...

“I'm dying, praying, bleeding, screaming... Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?”. “My God... My tourniquet... Return to me salvation…”.
 

Note. All of the lyrics belong to the band Evanescence, the song "My Tourniquet".

Author Notes: Photo: Pixabay

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