These were people who, even when they were having sex, were observing themselves having sex, because they were so interested in their reactions to each other. Intensely interrogative, a deeply penetrative curiosity turns every touching point of their bodies into the form of a question. Waiting in the friction between their skin, struck by the perfect aptness of their impulses, they covet a vision of themselves as witnesses. They can’t put feelings into words, only into looks of longing and sounds of satisfaction that punctuate the answer between them. It is the unstated that gives meaning to the relaxed simplicity of these hours. Together in the most brutal way–neither thinking themselves deserving of what they continue to share, nor able to ever get enough of each other–to have and to hold was most truly manifested in sex.
Somebody, Somewhere, Sometime