twenty-fifth cycling trip

Zoli smelled like a tomcat today. I got a whiff of its sour smell as soon as he arrived, he apologized, but there was nothing to do about it. We only had a few minutes, then both of us had to run off. So little, but still so much. Sometimes however, so much, but still so little. Zoli came, threw me to the floor, jumped up, threw me to the floor, and then there was no trace of him. Luckily, he allowed me to walk him to his bicycle. And he was holding my hand. And everyone could see me. Then he leapt on his bike, and I could only moan after him: thank you.

twenty-third cycling trip

I haven’t even boasted that my bike was found. A message was sent from the station, allegedly it had been parked there for a few days already. I’m sure someone had to do something urgently and didn’t want to miss the train. When I went to pick it up, I recalled a memory from my childhood. Zoli was coming towards me, he was a teenager, he was coming from school with a bouquet, but he drove right by me, without having seen me. When I started to shout after him, he turned around and he smiled like a Cheshire cat.

twenty-forth cycling

My husband came home so drunk that he didn’t even come into the house, he fell asleep in the armchair on the terrace. I spread a blanket over him, so he wouldn’t freeze, then I went in the house, and longed for Zoli. A cold wind was blowing, so I planned not to stick my feet out all day. But I couldn’t stand it: I sprung onto my bike, and under cover of darkness I went to see if my love had returned home. But there was no one at home. I was tempted by the idea to watch for him when he arrives, and pop in front of him when he opens the gate, but in the end I didn’t dare to stay any longer. It was already snowing big time when I set off back home. I thought that it would again have to be me to shovel the snow, and after that there would be no one to warm me up with his body.

tenth cycling trip

Don't hurry, Zoli, I said to Zoli today, the Turk is not chasing you.

twenty-second cycling trip

No one has answered the ad yet. My husband didn’t come home today, although I cooked a delicious dinner for him. So I had my time during the day, I walked all through the house, in the old bedroom I came across my grandmother’s dusty exercise bike, I thought I’d sit on it, but then I decided not to. All night I dreamt of Zoli lying under me, I kept waking up to embrace him, but Zoli remained only a dream. During the day I went down to the beach, to get some fresh air. I looked at the sea for a long time, then on my way home I picked oranges in the grove. When I met Zoli, I gave him one too. The moon was shining, my heart ached.

twenty-first cycling trip

I've decided to put up an ad, hoping someone can help me. Please, if I've seen my bike, call me!

twenty-first cycling trip

In the morning I could not find my bike anywhere. Though I remembered well that I had put it exactly where Zoli usually leaves his. When I woke up, I even saw it for a moment in front of me. But it was nowhere in sight. So my day didn’t work out as I had originally planned, because I didn’t do anything else but look for my bike. I walked several times down the road on which I cycled with it last time, but it had vanished into thin air. Though I needed it a lot. I knew it wasn’t stolen, because I don’t know anyone who could have dared such a thing. No-one inherited light-fingers here, it doesn’t run in families in this neighborhood. For a moment I stopped beside the road to set my skirt right. I don’t know why, but I had the feeling that the whole world was staring at me. In the morning Zoli visited me, I asked him if he thought there was something funny in our sadness, but he didn’t answer.

twentieth cycling trip

Zoltán has just gone, I can still hear him closing the door behind him, but my soul already aches. He promised to go biking today too, but because it was raining he slipped into the bed next to me instead. I didn’t mind at all. First he was kissing my left breast, then the right, so it wouldn’t take offense by any chance. Zoli, I tell him, don’t be a pig, but in the meantime I don’t wish anything else, just that he be a pig with me. Then I whisper words in his ear, words which only he would say to me. I’m thirsty for you, I say. And I hunger too. If I were a carnivorous plant, it would be much easier, I would swallow you in a second. Greedily and selfishly. And there would no longer be any other ways for you. You would move into me. I would shut you in my eyes. And you would be only mine. Just mine. Do you hear me? I'm screaming for you. JUST MINE. Your flesh. Your blood. Your soul. Your magic. Your smile. And with your heart I would live. And again, there would be order in the world. Zoli only nods, then he leaves quickly.

nineteenth cycling trip

Zoli is chewing my ears. He thinks they taste good, he likes them. Why ears? And why mine? And what does he like in them? I don’t understand. And sometimes I can’t even believe it. That it’s my ears he’s nibbling at. He says life is nice in pairs, and there are exactly two of my ears. He also says that he put his finger in my ear. But he also says that nothing is hopeless, and that one should try it, just because. Just in case there is still potential in us, he says. He also tells me not to be sad, for he likes it when I'm cheerful. I am cheerful, but when he takes leave of me, my heart sinks and my ears hang low.

I am I, you are you

Yesterday I got a bike from Zoli. For Christmas. We were in company when he gave it, so I had to hide my feelings. But I couldn’t do it very well. He enclosed a letter to the gift:

"Draw a man. I see you draw well. You drew 2 feet for him. 2 hands. 2 eyes. 2 ears. You drew two of everything. Not one. It's perfect like this. In pairs. A foot can also only tread forward in pairs. If you drew a bird, it would have two wings. Only like that can it fly high in the sky, sweep higher and higher. And think of scissors. Without you I'm like one half of scissors. Or perhaps even more desperate. Like a bike that doesn’t work. Unusable. You can’t chop nor gallop with it. That’s why you need a pair of feet, hands, eyes, ears so ... (and you continue...)

[12:45:17 AM] ... I can cycle with you a lot."

[12:45:44 AM] ... I can always cycle with you.”

seventeenth cycling trip

I like it best when I dream that Zoli is coming home. He props his bicycle against the wall and doesn’t ride it any more that day. I putter around to make things tidy and to make Zoli happy with me. He slips behind my back, I pretend not to notice him, and suddenly he licks in my ear. The meal cooks on the stove, I cook, but I’m always afraid that the soup boils over. Please let me go, I tell Zoli, but he doesn’t, not for anything in the world. I don’t mind. I’ll make soup in my other dream, I dream. Zoli caresses me, and he promises that he will never argue with me. He cuddles me and kisses my nose.

But when I wake up, that’s the worst. Because I can’t see Zoli’s bicycle anywhere.

sixteenth cycling trip

I wrote to Zoli too! The mail even took it!

"When I got home, I realized that I don’t really have a home. What it has made it as such, passed now. Now the house is cold. Frigid. Relationless. Loveless. My home is elsewhere now. Always elsewhere. It’s there, where you are. In Brazil, by the seaside, in the street, in the room, in the snow, beside the road. In heaven. In hell. Anywhere. Everywhere. Just be with me."

When I stuck the envelope down, the address was washed away by a few tears, so once again I inked in the name: Turk.

fifteenth cycling trip

He wrote. He does love me after all. The mail has just arrived.

"In my life I haven’t said the words ‘I love you’ many times. Especially not ‘I adore you’. But you are an exception. For some reason an exception. Someone for whom, because of whom, I have violated all the rules. All my principles. It’s a fact that I haven’t always behaved in a predictablenormal way, but some things have changed since then, and I have become more-intelligent-more-grown-up-more sane-smarter-wiser than I was. I know now what I want. I know who I want. You. So that you can be the one for my bed. So that you can be the one on whose shoulder I sleep. So that I can always put my legs on your legs. So that I can stick my tongue in your ear, in your mouth. So that I can feel you. So that I can smell you. So that you can attack me. So that I can attack you. So that we can pain each other. So that I can be your thistle, your bird, your everything. So that you can be my thistle, my bird, my everything. So that myour test pilot, before-after-during peeing ... (And you drove me crazy. You drove me insane. I don’t even know whether I am a girl or a boy!) Be my cycling partner. Forever. Amen. "

I think I’ll pass out now.