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Show J?S~ off." She took one long step to the edge of the bed and leaned down and kissed me on the mouth, ph., I moaned, and we let ourselves go to the kisses, kissing hungrily, gulping, and all the while she was sinking, sinking to the floor at the side of the bed, our lips still joined. "Go to bed," I told her. "No. Kiss me." "Go to t bed." "If you'll come with me." I grew dizzy, but I held on. "No, I'm not going to mess your life up." "I can take cared of my own life." "It's just because I'm here. I can't let you . . . " "Shut up." Her lips shut me up. "And come on." She stood up. "No." "Chess . . . Do I have to plead?" "Not in there. You stay here." I moved over further, flattening myself against the wall. Above me Renoir's "Bathers" quietlfy watched. "Stay here." "Here? But . . . " "Here," I said more forcefully, and tugged her dsxax hand. "It's too narrow. It's too hot and narrow." I tugged harder. I was not going to leave my own turf, my territory. In her bedroom I had been an intruder. I had been sick there, flat on my back and self-less, feeling like a horse that if I stayed down too long I would never get back up. I had been invalid, she nurse, and I wanted none of that now. I had gotten back up, oh how I was up now, and I wanted to run with it, to gallop with her, and I wanted the race here in my own meadow, across my own fields, here beneath those marvelous bathers where I had dreamed so felicitously of rubadubdubbing, naked and splashing and scrubbing. Where I had slept for months dreaming of horses and her. She was resisting me though and I pulled |
