Wednesday, March 24, 2004

Closer to God

Thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack. Thud-ssssmack. The sound. That sound. This sound.

It is a heart. Beating. Then being hit. Beating. Then being hit. Beating. Then being hit.

It is a heart. Beating. Then scarping along the sidewalk. Beating. Then scraping along the sidewalk.

Thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack.

It continues on its way. It is dark. Beside it is a street. Cars' headlights flash. Zoom by. Engines can be heard. Tires spin.

Some streetlamps line the sidewalk. Give out light. They look like beacons. Like small suns.

The heart leaves a trail of blood. It scrapes and keeps bleeding more blood. The trail continues on for miles. Far back all those miles lies a prostrate man on the ground. He is stomach-side up. His eyes are wide open. He wears a white shirt, the middle containing a hole. Blood surrounds it. Slanders about the rim of the circle of the torn shirt. Looking in the hole there is his intestines. There is his lungs. The lungs still move up and down, slowly. The man's ribs are open like two doors. His heart is gone.

Thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack.

The heart stops dragging itself. In the distance, coming from the other side, comes another heart.

This one is bigger. Moves with more speed.

It makes a trail. Just as the other heart. The trail goes back miles. Far back all those miles lies a prostrate woman, who is back-side up. In the middle of the dress she wears is a hole. Blood has congealed on the outside ridges of the tattered shirt. Inside the hole you can see her lungs. Her intestines. Her lung still moves up and down, like a sac someone uses to hyperventilate. Her ribs are completely broken aside. Her heart is gone.

The two hearts are now beside one another. The woman's heart begins spreading open. When it is done, the heart looks like the nubs of two legs, and a whole in the center.

The man's heart stretches outward. It gets as slender and long as it can get.

The man's heart stabs into the woman's heart, going in through the hole. Inside, the men's heart goes then comes out, goes then comes out. All the while the two hearts keep thudding.

Thud-thud-thud-sssmack. Thud-thud-thud-sssmack. Thud-thud-thud-sssmack.

They move so fast that they smack against the cement and make loud noises. Their thuds continue to get louder. The two heart's blood is coalesced and intermixed. It begins standing in a puddle as they continue to rock back and forth, faster and faster.

Miles away, the man lying prostrate on the ground begins rocking back and forth. His face shows an intimate pleasure. His blue jeans he wears showcases a large outward thrust in its center. His body begins to flesh with color. His lungs suck in and out faster. He grabs breasts that are not there and cradles a body that is not there.

Miles away, on the opposite side of the prostrate man, the prostrate woman grinds back and forth. Her face reads pleasure. Her nipples stand out through he bra and her dress. They are hard. Her body begins to flesh with a pale red color. Her lungs suck in and out faster. She fondles her hands in the air, grabbing a body that isn't there in a passionate way.

Thudthudthud-thud-thud-sssmacksssmack. Thudthudthud-thud-thud-sssmackssssmack. Thudthudthud-thud-thud-sssmacksssmack

The hearts are fucking like animals.

A rush of pleasure touches the prostrate man's genital area. His face twists to an even deeper, more intimate pleasure. He feels the pleasure take control of his entire body and keep its central point on his genital area. The orgasm. It is now. He can no longer hold it back and he ejaculates. His jeans show a wet mark. At the microscopic level sperm flow free on the cloth of his briefs. They uselessly fight against the fabric to try to get through. To try to be what they were programmed to.

A rush of pleasure touches the woman's cervix. It blooms and fingers her outward. Her hips get wavy and a pleasure strangles. It explodes and ends. The orgasm. It is now. Then it is over.

Thudthudhtud-thud-sssmacksssmack. Thudthud-thud-sssmacksssmack. Thud-thud-sssmack. Thud-thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack. Thud-sssmack. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The two hearts lie there. The man's heart exits the woman's. It shapes back to its regular form. The woman's heart shapes back to its normal state. They lie there, together, looking at the stars in the sky for a while.

Many pedestrians had passed while the hearts lay there, all over one another. None had seen anything. They had continued on their way, as if they saw nothing. And as far as anyone knew they had not seen anything. The only thing they had seen were two ants on the floor, fighting one another it appeared. And that was all. They were red ants, the more observant ones had seen. Red ants: the ones whose bites sting like a fucker, burn on you and seethe.

But most had not even seen the ants. They had not even looked.

Many feet came close to squashing them. None did, as if guided by some force. Each veered away before it was too late.

Lying there, the two hearts' veins suddenly enwrapped each other. They complicated one another. They were now interconnected and served and beat as one. They lay there longer. Writhing here and there, as if they were speaking a language to one another.

Then things began changing. Time began running backwards. Feet began walking back towards the two hearts. Everything replayed, only reverse. The hearts' veins became unconnected. The hearts began shaping back in reverse They man's heart began penetrating the woman's heart. It was out in this time. They began changing back to their usual appearance backwards. They began scraping back to their bodies in reverse.

In another moment, of time, another continuum, the two hearts began to seizure as time kept going forward. It is as if they knew what was coming.

A car screeches directly unto the two hearts. The car had veered out of the way of another car. On the car that had caused the other car to veer, there is a large cross. It is on the top, held there by thick rope. In the cross sits a visceral form of Jesus and a representation of his crucifixion. If anyone had been able to look closely at the cross carried on the car and what Jesus looks like, they would have seen where his heart is it was torn out. That had happened long ago when it had been made. It had been an accident. The driver of the car was a priest by the name of Herberton Dawis. He was approaching his church on a usual trip. He was not paying attention and was thinking about God. The car that had veered was commandeered by a woman named Mary Matthew. When she gets out and the police come, she says it was an act of God that she was able to miss the car.

The hearts feel the cold dead touch of metal. Their veins are severed and crushed. They breathe their last few dying thuds. Then all is quiet. All is silent. In a pool of blood crushed under the car, the two hearts wait. But are never found. They were never even there for all anyone knew. When the police had taken the car and looked under, they had seen the pile of blood. They said Ms. Matthew ran over some animal—a squirrel perhaps, maybe even a stray dog, maybe something else. Ms. Matthew was never able to tell them the license plate number of the car she almost hit. The only thing she could remember was reacting.

In this same time continuum, the two bodies which lie in their areas got up. They had no hearts. They began cutting away their flesh at the same time. From their flesh they fashioned a cocoon. It was not technically a cocoon, but it serves the same purpose of them. In their cocoons they grow wings. At the same time. Their hearts continue to be gone.

When they come out of their cocoons created from their skin, their bodies have disintegrated. All that is left is bones. Ribs. Skulls. The two arm bones, still all intact, are fashioned in the shape of a cross, perpendicular to one another. Both in the same way for the man's and the woman's bones.

Their souls begin rising into the air. They are now closer to God. It was an act of God that they were able to feel each other's hearts. It was an act of God that they were able to grow their wings. It was an act of God that they got nooses above their heads that are attached by a string to their necks and choke them up. The woman and the man meet at the gates of Heaven. They are closer to one another than ever before.

Once admitted into heaven, they find it is not heaven at all, and that they were in a purgatory all along, and still are. In heaven, the gates open, they find each other at their sidewalks again, a good miles away from each other. Each at the same time, they thrust their hands into themselves. The woman does it from behind, bending her arm in a physically impossible manner. Their hearts in their hands, they crash to the floor, and their hearts being their way back to each other, to face each other and fuck once again.

The other continuum of time, going backwards, goes on while all this goes on. In this continuum of time, the man and the woman's hearts go back inside of them. They move backwards, thrusting each other's hearts back into one another with their hands, seemingly mending the hole they created in one another with their bare hands, their fingertips. Time stops going backwards then. The man walks forward at a brisk pace. He is thinking about school and how much he hates it.

On the other side the woman walks. She is thinking about how much she hates her dad and her sister. She is thinking about how much she wishes she could not live with them.

Once walking a while, the two pass each other. The man looks at the woman and finds her attractive. His flaccid penis suddenly erects and hardens. The woman thinks he looks intelligent in a sexy way but is not turned on. They walk by each other without even knowing anything. Without even caring. They are just objects to one another.

In the puddle of blood, where the hearts were squashed by the car, in the continuing purgatory, there is a reflection. In the blood reflects the man walking by the woman and both doing nothing.

As the two hearts fuck like animals, the pool of blood they create glistens. Inside the pool of blood is seen the puddle of blood found at the squashed car, and in the squashed car puddle there is the two walking by each other, not knowing what they could have been and just seeing each other as objects.
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