53

1/03/1993




During the past week, I have been living in paranoia. After my meeting with the lady evangelist, I kept looking over my shoulders, jumping when people touched my arm and waiting for phone calls. I know it seems silly to others but it wasn't to me. There was something more to what was going on but I wasn't sure what it was-didn't know why I felt a heaviness, a presence floating over me.



My dreams were filled with vampires and burning candles-chants and someone crying in the distance. I saw Matt's face as if he was sleeping. His pale face framed by short dreads which lay against his silken bed. I awoke crying and looking for something to write on. I would scramble around my room in the moonlight looking for a pen and paper. There I scribbled things that I couldn't remember when I read them in the morning light. I was driving myself crazy.



1/04/1993



Nasha called me today and told me that there were people involved in black magic which had wanted Matt dead. She had a distant look when she told me and maybe she was still in shock and just over reacting to rumors she had heard, but she was oddly calm. At times it seemed like she didn't care that he was dead. She kept telling me over and over about how she knew it wasn't her fault. I would just hug her and listen. I had few words for her or anyone else for the matter. Then she told me about Lavinia and the sex tape. I was shocked, totally surprised by this new found evidence. Nasha recounted how the police had ransacked their apartment and found the letters and the sex tape. Then she told me about her relationship with Lavinia as well. Suddenly this small love triangle that I had entered had become some other shapely disturbing drama. I just couldn't take any more information. I told her goodbye and that I was returning to Memphis. I was returning to my beautiful Norwegian girlfriend and push this from my mind. But my dreams wouldn't let me forget him. They would follow too.



1/05/1993



Before I left for Memphis I decided to visit the cemetary. I had written so many poems, and just scribblings but there was one, one I had written for him. I wanted him to have it, so I took it with me to the graveyard. Oh, I could feel them all around me that day, you know, things which could not dwell on the same plane as I. Whether they were good or bad spirits was beyond me and simply, I did not care. I waded through them and made my way through the gates that held I-man. Inside the gates I could no longer hear the insects, the birds or any other forest sounds. The surrounding woods were quite. I drew near to him and spoke.



"Hello, Matt." My lips trembled as my fingers did, gripping tightly around the messenger bag I held. Inside was his poem.



A breeze blew across my hands and I could swear I felt a soft caress. I stopped and glanced around myself unsure for just a moment. Then I sat down beside him. My hands wandered across the soft silken grass that framed the mound of new earth.



"Oh, you don't have any flowers. I will get you some.



Sitting my bag down beside him, I stood and glanced around the place. I saw a grave which held so many flowers that It really had no room for more. Despite how wrong it seemed, I walked over and snatched a single rose from the grave, praying for forgiveness on my way back to Matt.



"Here, I stole this for you." I pushed the stem down into the spot right above his head. Then I lay down beside him. My hand reached into my bag and withdrew the paper. From its crumpled face, I read...



The air is clouded

by a strange scent

most lovely and pleasureable

I feel your essence

and taste your lips

it is immeasureable

a fleeting moment

of hypnotic stare

caught between

your eyes of night

and mine

that no one

could ever compare

feed me, precious lover

fill me with your lust

take me into death itself

satiate my dust

live inside my dreams

at night

lie beside my heart

indulge yourself

in my blood

in death, we'll never part



I exhaled and tears fell for the first time. leaning over, I kissed the earth and tucked his poem neatly under a clod of red dirt.I rose back to my feet. I adjusted the shoulder staps on my messenger back and spoke once more.



"I love you."



Then I turned and started away. Away across the cememtery, moving amongst the tombs, smelling the fake flowers and feeling the silence. I turned to look at his grave once more and was astonished at what I saw.



From the entire surface of the cemetary rose hundreds, no, thousands of bees. My breath caught in my throat as I watched in wonder and amazement. I just stood there and wept.