Dedication
by C. Rousse

To this, my life, my love, my body entirely, eternally; yet my mind and soul (and perhaps therefore my heart?) Never completely given over, and for what? To protect from being discovered what hides in the dark corners and yet begs to be seen, from even the very one who should see first and best, and all others as well, and all the while lamenting being unknown.

In his arms, his hands, against his body, there is shelter—a moment of relief from the torment, a moment of peace in the blessed, blissful oblivion of his touch, his mouth. But even there, even there just for a moment. No place is sacred, it seems, from this painful, inescapable restlessness, from my own torturous, traitorous mind... I am indignantly outraged, ashamedly impassioned, forever startled each time by the depth of knowing and understanding in your eyes, your eyes, so intense, knowing, smiling, as though they see past the facade to the ache beneath, as though to them I have no defenses, and the teeth are in, it just won't let me go; though I cannot bear it, I cannot forget it.

Even in the ultimate moment, when I can do nothing more than tremble, cry out, and close my eyes for him, for him! Even in that sweetest moment I am not safe from you, because sometimes, unbidden, the briefest image flashes, quick and hot like lightning through that traitorous mind... your shoulders, your hands, the burning intensity of those eyes, taking my body that much higher for having seen while my heart plummets into shame and torment. No man is an island, perhaps, but this woman is; marooned within myself and with myself, the only person in the world that sometimes I cannot bear and yet cannot ever push away—I'm starving for something unnamable, unreachable, punishing myself (as though I need more punishment) for some reason unfathomable... no solution in sight, no absolution forthcoming.

The teeth are set, it won't let go; though I cannot bear it, I just can't forget it. How unfair it is, to see the searching, aching, the reaching plaintiveness of my soul reflected in your eyes, and all the love, restlessness, the frustrated confusion of the selfsame soul reflected in his.

So very beautiful, the two of you. And you forever watching! I close my eyes to escape you both for a moment; when I open them again I see you contemplating me, knowing everything, it seems, seeing everything, it seems, and I see him only looking away, unnoticing of what he doesn't want to see.

How very unfair, searching for so long, to have finally found my one, willingly given my life over to him, dedicated my life to him, only him! Everything to be with him, only him... And now to be seen so by you? And now to find that one little forever missing piece in you? The irony is unbearable, unthinkable, it cannot be.

And the teeth are tearing, it just won't let me go; while I cannot bear the pain, I cannot forget it. I toss, I turn, I can't sleep peacefully... I cannot be at peace with this and with myself. I circle it in my mind, studying it, seeking the solution to no avail, I hate it and myself for it. Most painfully, I question my dedication to him, to this that he and I have, to our love, and I cannot find the answer.