Par Tablo - Daniel Armand Lee -
Tiré de son livre Pieces Of You.
___But, i remind myself, I have a job to do.
___'' Tell me about last Saturday,'' I say. ''Tell me ''
Her eyes widen in excitement as if she has anticipated this question, this chance to expose herself. Like a budding actress speaking her debut lines, she wets her lips with her tongue and draws in a long breath that threatens to inhale the whole room.
___'' I danced and danced, toes and heels pecking the earth like birds feeding,'' she answers.
___Sandra always speaks like this : poetry at the speed of a subway train.
___'' Where was this?? I ask, watching nothing about her lips.
___'' In the rain. I danced between the strips of rain.''
___'' This was Saturday?''
___'' Are you sure Sandra ? It didn't rain on Saturday.''
___'' It's didn't rain for you maybe, but it always rains for me.
The sky shatters and rains shards of glass.''
___'' That sound very painful.''
___'' No, it sounds beautiful.''
___Everything she says is beautiful. Her lips are a fountain with words brimming; I, with my hands cupped, wait for them to overflow.
___I glance over at the white booklet laid neatly on the top right-hand corner of my desk. A handbook for psychiatrists and their patients : Therapy does not involve sex. Warning signs. But when Sandra speaks, I forget about the roles we are paid to play.
___'' Rescure me,'' I say.
___Let's dance together, speak together, compose sentences that will bridge the space between my chair and your couch, between my sterile white dress shirt dans your unbouttoned blouse.
___'' Nothing,'' I hurriedly say.
___'' You can have me,'' she says.
___'' You can have me and take me wherever you want.''
___Her words make the marble pillars fall ; office walls cave in; phone numbers disappear from the rolodex; and appointment cards burn to cinder, leaving nothing but Sandra and I, hand in hand, waithing to rescure each other. But it's too late for either of us to be saved.