It occurs to me that I'm afraid of this: I might have grown bored of the random hotel rooms, random meaningless banter, random boys with which I've built my Babel. I tell myself that this straining to reach heaven must be blasphemous except I have no choice but to build higher and higher because there is no way down.
When it's really quiet my thoughts often turn maudlin.
A soft light shines from the half-open bathroom door. From somewhere in the room a tinny radio sings ridiculous songs, I'd turn it off if I fucking knew how but. I'd tried to call the front desk to ask how to turn the thing off but dialing zero got me nothing but a dial tone. Actually the front desk had called earlier, just when the kissing turned torrid so when I answered the phone and the woman on the other line asked if we were settled in okay I told her that yes, we were doing just fine until she called and then I put down the phone. Also a few hours after that the phone rang again but that time I just took the phone off the hook. For a while I could hear the woman's voice coming from the handset but not for long.
There's something about the way TVs saturate a dark room with their colored light that always gets to me. The Incredibles was showing and I watched the first half of it because I'd never seen it before. Tell-chan snored beside me, his left arm draped around my body. Fuck there never was a face more beautiful asleep than his.
I'm lying there, trying not to move too much, watching his chest rise and fall softly and I'm afraid that what I really want is this: to hold his hand in silence.
*Photo is from the photobook 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' by Jeff Sheng. Click on the picture to view his website and some of the other photos in the collection.