Telling Secrets by Candlelight

I took a French lover once. An arrogant, self serving, uncouth, beautiful, sexy man. When we went our separate ways it was with a passionate uproar that rippled out and touched everyone we knew. Yes, it was messy. But such things happen after you live with such passion…

Or was it conceived passion?

This was a man who had multiple affairs, with me… with other women. A man who lied about everything… but lived in the moment.

So when we met a French couple last week, I could not quite shake the “I have been here before” feeling. David reminds me of Daniel. Playing that guy… but really very insecure under it all. Don’t take this the wrong way; he was a nice enough guy… charming in all the right places. But there was an under taste that I could not quite put my finger on until recently.

I think he was intimidated by J. For some obvious and not so clear, hidden under our clothes sort of way. It’s in the little comments he made, in the lack of follow through with getting together.

But I have to say, I am not disappointed in their silence. In a way, I am relieved. Daniel was trouble. So would this Frenchman. It’s beyond their control. Arrogant cocks that they are.

It makes me love my J. all that more. For his beautiful nature and sublime laid back attitude. What a wonderful state of life we live.


G.



Le Coq Francais
~For Daniel (Written a million years ago...)


Five o’clock (am),
pastoral delight.
I am roused from
sweet slumber
by the cock crows.
Le coq francais,
with his perfectly
proportioned,
proud sleek head,
feathers glistening
with west coast damp,
lords over the barn yard.
He scratches at the
heaving mounds
of fertile valley soil,
while his chick
pecks at the spilt cream
from the milk-maids pail.
And the brood of hens
squabble
over night-crawlers
in the frost-free
morning air.
His crow rings
out over the landscape,
with curves echoing
the arch of his
regal tail and I slip
from my sheets
my inner clock
ticking to his call.