FOOL THAT I AM

he lives downstairs from me in another life. the one where we knew each other beyond greetings that bordered on a formality: i saw him naked. i didn't look on my own. at the sound of his movements, i turned towards the adult steps of a man trying not to be seen, though he watched me all along. he wanted to move quicker; fast enough so that i might not glimpse him in his barren state. he knew he would bear the mask of shame that i would not be cursed to turn into a pillar of salt or lose my sight.

but i saw him. excited. embarrassed. aware. in this life, we barely can get the words out before we are passing one another. glad that the moment we shared but wished we hadn't was halfway over & would be completely done once we were no longer occupied the same space. we used to talk at the mailbox. stand in doorways leaning, waiting for the next conversation to keep up us glued in place. in that life, we wanted some of the same things, longed for common dreams to become realities, & all the while, we never said what we wanted. the dancing around of black histories & sheltered heartbeats would never allow this.

each of the moments since then became lives of their own, & in those lives, memory forgot our names. never uttered. but i knew him & he knew me & there didn't need to be any words spoken. instead, tokens of stolen time coupled with movements across hardwood floors to answer doors to return mail or just check in after not seeing one another for weeks at a time became the silence that haunts both of us to this day.

years from now, you will say that was your intention: to make me yearn for you. foolishly, i will wave away this remark; pass it off as just your bravado. then, just as now & later, your words will be truthful. i believed you because i wanted to...not because you knew what you were doing.

silly how this one step beyond has made us something else to one another though it will take years before we go back to being what we started off as. we used to conjure beyond the part of life we take in our hands where fingers joined to greet & close out informal lapses of fellowship on hallway landings & greystone porches. that's what we had...

"don't you know him?"

"yeah...he lives in my building."

"don't you all speak?"

"naw, not really."

"that's messed up. he is your neighbor"

"maybe, but that's all he is."

" didn't say he was more. is he?"

"whatchu mean?"

...you knew already. ashamed. confused. embarassed. barren. naked. watching me watch you in a split second. knowing. in another life, you lived downstairs from me. watching yourself walk up one flight of stairs to knock on my door, there, you kissed me for first & last time. there was no need to speak anymore after that. i remember this; can't forget.