15
SODOM AND GOMORRAH
Desdemona
Little Milan, New York
Territory: Il Fioreʼs
September 3rd, 2004
Time: 12:00 PM
_____________________________
Allegro mi sembrava Amor tenet do
Meo core in mano, e ne le braccia avea
Madonna involta in un drappo dormendo.
Poi la svegliava, e dʼesto core ardendo
Lei paventosa umilmente pascea:
Appresso gir lo ne vedea piangendo.
He played her sweetly as he would a violin. Milan had always been an impeccable beauty, but she was his first love, and she would sing to him the Vita Nuova every night. Danteʼs first sonnet, was Calvacantiʼs first taste of corruption, and Dante ate their hearts, love-starved. Love was a smoke made from a fume of sighs, the sweetest toxin, and she drank in the fire.
The illusion of love was a soft and silky tear billowing down his face, kissed by the mortal beauty of his eyes. In Il Fiore, one of the last houses of pleasure in New York, she saw the ground grow holy, the perfect peace in his eyes. The cotton graced his skin as he sat with his lover, the hot wind of the sweltering day kissing his naked body. Handmaidens graced Il Fioreʼs rich bathing room, Roman in design, the blithe excitement in their eyes creating a dizzying, feverish sensation. In the silken shadows, he grew enraptured by a little dove, soul full of love; a transient type of attraction, the Love of Loves as Michaelangelo wrote, an earthy high.
Born of Milanʼs might and Florenceʼs fire.
She listened to the conversation, that Love of Loves: Two bodies, one soul, they would write. She believed every word:
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
"You came back."
"I told you I would."
"Yes, I know."
"I missed you; I always miss you."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but you never know."
"You never really know."
"Sebastián?"
"Yes, Robin?"
"Iʼm afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid youʼll leave. Like they all have."
"It gets lonely. I miss when youʼre gone. I count the minutes ʼtill youʼre back."
"I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders..."
"And I donʼt want to do it anymore."
"Not unless Iʼm with you, Sebastián."
"What is it, Robin?"
"If...if I asked you to stay the night, if I asked you to, would you?"
"Stay the night?"
"Yes."
"With you?"
"Yes."
"Ask me."
"What?"
"Ask me."
"If you want me to stay, ask me."
"Will you stay with me, until morning, Sebastián?"
YOU ARE READING
Our Dark Prince (The Scottish Play)
FantasyTHE DEVIL WENT DOWN TO LOUISIANA - And there will be killing until the score is settled. Tortured and exiled, Robin DeMarcus came back to the United States unscathed: a ruthless heiress to an antebellum empire with a hunger for revenge to carry on...
