Monday, January 26, 2009

A city of lovers

A post card at a magazine stand captures a young couple kissing in a window that reads Buenos Aires cafĂ©. A city of lovers. They are everywhere in this enchanting place. On street corners, outside movie theatres in bookstores in parks and in public squares. This one particular couple specifically captivates me with the innocent sensuality with which they touch each other. The hustle and bustle of the market around them and these two entirely in their own world as though to defy time and space and claim them both theirs and exclusively theirs. The girl no older than 20 and the subject of her affection a man or a boy approximately the same age. She is dressed in what seems to be typical argentine clothing. Comfortable simple plain but classy. And he wears a back pack and holds onto the straps attempting to retain a cool calm and collected aura. They sit on different levels of the steps of the market. Her legs create a sort of throne with arm rests for him. So he sits…. Snug as a bug shrouded by her body as she casually drapes her arms around his neck and teases his ear with her breath and mouth. She whispers sweet nothings into his ear and throws back her head with thrilled laughter every once in a while. He stretches his neck in a slow motion much like a cat stretches after a nap. The girl seizes the opportunity and kisses his neck whispering something then pauses in anticipation of his reaction to her words. She looks at him and her eyes speak to him “ reach me if you can! I dare you to catch me with your lips!” He grins with acknowledgment and acceptance of the challenge brought forth. As I am watching all this transpire I am reminded that this city is flooded with the influence of the tango. So I watched this couple dance with movements of attraction and repulsion slow and quick gestures of desire and tenderness with every touch caress and glance. Suddenly, a cell phone rings, the music stops with a screech of a record, the dance no longer set in motion to the melody of their charm and reality barges in very uninvited. She watches him speak into the phone with such love in her yes, unengaged in the words but rather how his lips and tongue move to create the correct air pressure for the consonants and vowels. She watches how his eyes fill expression as he attempts to process and respond to what he is hearing. He hangs up the phone but she is still lost in all that is him. She is still caught in the whirlwind of visual and mental notes that allow her to glorify him. He tells her what has happened but she doesn’t register any of it and seems to waive it off like it never happened returning to her captivated trance like state before he interrupted her. They standing and facing each other at this point. He is on a step above hers and she, on the one below. The arch of her right foot hugs his left foot and her calf and knee cradle his. Her left arm is raised in the air poised like a dancer and her right gently grazes his cheek and ear. It is bent at the elbow allowing her palm to hang gracefully at the nape of her neck. He puts his phone back in his pocket and returns his hands to the small of her back as though it were a nook carved uniquely for his hands. He draws her near and kisses her cheek as she looks at him with her head tilted to the side. She is attempting to read his thoughts. He lingers and after he’s done lingering he decides that a kiss on the cheek was not enough so he begins another with more passionate conviction this time. He leaves her be as though to throw her to the wind, knowing that being within such close proximity would likely make it impossible for him to leave. He walks away but keeps his eyes fixed on her and smiles radiantly. Ciao Ciao he yells as he waives good bye and blows her a kiss. She laughs at his dramatic cinematic exit and jumps in the air pretending to catch the kiss from far above her head and places it on her heart. She turns around, straightens her shirt and takes a quick second to soak it all in, sighs and off she goes.