Dear Aurora, the other shall not claim you
The sun have seen me loving you, the moon heard the poetry you sung to me. You loved me, your first love shall be your last.
It's raining cats and dogs outside, Aurora. The lights have finally grown tired of giving color to your eyes. The blue, a vast ocean in your pupils, contrasts with the black of your skin; joyful ebony.
I still remember, it feels like yesterday. My hands wove through your hair, wild and free in the breeze. Like a young explorer, I traced every inch of your skin. First, the parts everyone can see. Your fingers intertwined with mine, fitting perfectly into the curves of my hand. I brushed against your hairy leg. I pressed myself close, feeling the warmth of your bare shoulders.
And we were each other’s…
Later, I ventured to more forbidden corners. A meticulous explorer, I left no part of your body unknown to me. I knew you. You knew me. We belonged to each other. We belonged… But not tonight. Tonight, the light has fled your eyes. Tonight, you long to belong to another. To shatter the vows you spoke with such joyful air. To break my heart, which loved you wholly. A torrent of tears lies in wait beneath my eyelids. The light saw it, felt shame, and slipped away.
For four hours, the electricity has been gone. Aurora, outside, rain falls in torrents, as if the sky itself understands my sorrow and weeps with me. You sit beside me in the darkness, your body bare, our bodies unclothed. What do you expect me to say? Your skin brushes against mine, its soft bristles stirring my own, just as they did on that first day. The warmth of your flesh is nothing compared to the pain you’ve etched into my heart.
I spent years losing myself joyfully in you. Today, I’ve wandered, weakened, beneath an all-knowing, mournful sky, faltering in you under heavens that weep. Then you sat me down and told me everything. You said I was lucky to have you, with your dark skin and blue eyes, but that my luck wouldn’t last forever. You blamed me for the child we still don’t have, despite the rivers I’ve poured into you. You said another was more handsome than I am. To me, who thinks of you constantly, who sows hope for our future, who watches the dog sleep and hears the rooster’s cry, who twice kept death from claiming you. You said I no longer see you, no longer love you. You said your lips would now be strangers to me.
You say you belong to another…
Aurora, you know how to bring nightfall over an entire life. Your lips know it. They declared that your heart and soul, today, belong to another. Here you are, sitting with me in the darkness, your body bare, our bodies unclothed. What do you expect me to say? I will stay silent. My thoughts, though, churn and boil.
Aurora, all at once, the fork with its filed-down tines feels fitting. I love the damp forest and its soil teeming with termites, where bodies turn to earth. Aurora, I imagine heads rolling down distant slopes. Over there. Suddenly, I love our police and their shoddy investigations, our state that halts at the capital’s edge. I love this darkness and the silence that has fallen over the capital. At last, I rejoice in knowing the other, in having trusted him, in knowing where he lives.
Aurora, I want to tell you. I love you, but the other will not have you.
This is an English translation of “Cher Aurore, l’autre ne t’aura pas” a short story originally published in French on Mondoblog (blogging website of Radio France International).
Written beautifully, tho it’s a tragedy