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The man who I travel with, dusty and of unknown age, stops at the foothills of the village. In Arabic, he explains to me that this is the stop. I have no money; I trade him a child's winter coat for his son and a canteen of water for the journey.
He drives off in the jeep and I'm left alone, staring up at the terraced buildings above me and the mountains beyond. The snowy peaks cut into the sky and I breathe deeply, a heavy feeling erupting in my chest.
A shout floats down from somewhere. Robert is there when I look up, a golden outline against a brick home. He waves and begins to make the staired descent to me.
"Pagey is waiting for you up there," he tells me as he gathers me in a hug. "We've missed you."
"I've missed you both, too. So much." I move Robert's curls from his face and peck his cheek. He giggles childishly and hurries me up the steps to the village.
He explains that you are living in a compound with some mountaineers from Switzerland and a quartet of street musicians here only for the week. You've been having impromptu jams every night in the central courtyard.
It's temperate here and the air is clear with the high altitude. I try my best to keep steady as we reach the gate, but fail when I find you sitting in a rocking chair, your hands occupied with your guitar.
"Jimmy," I call. You glance up to find me and your face cuts a grin. Gently, you set the acoustic aside and come to me, hands outstretched.
Your palms are warm when I set mine atop and you smell sweetly of citrus. You're all shades of blues and grays in long linen pants and a loose shirt, a scarf wrapped around you to fend off the dust. To see you so natural, undone -- my eyes take in all of you.
"How was your trip?" You ask, and lean toward me to kiss my lips.
"Lonely without you," I confess against your mouth. Your cheeks are bristled with stubble. I rub my face against the skin there, holding you, keeping you.
You stand still for me and hum a laugh. "It's lonely without you here, even with Robert."
The comment makes my skin flush and you lead me inside the home you've had for the last five days. The brick building is warm compared to the cool chill outside. You have sweet mint tea waiting for me on the table.
Robert, you, and I sit crossed-legged in a triangle. I listen to your stories from the time before I arrived.
"Tomorrow, we'll take you to see Mahmoud," Robert tells me. "We'll get you one of his lamps so you can hang it back home. He'll love you, too, so interested in history. You can school him on your knowledge of Morocco."
I giggle at Robert's warm impression of me. "How was Marrakesh?" I ask both of you.
You answer me, "it was a sight. We went at night and there were all the lights and musicians playing. We sat down and joined them for a moment. They talked of tantric music, injuring themselves in order to achieve a higher consciousness while they played."
Robert joins in, eager, "we didn't cut ourselves, but we still felt it, right, Pagey? Like a warming deep in my chest. I felt I was connected, as if my faith was resilient in that moment."
I try to reach into my mind to recall a similar experience, but find nothing sitting in my memories. Instead, I take your hand:
"Next time you see them, may I come? I'd love to sing along."
"Oh, love, I don't think they allow women," Robert answers and rises to enter the kitchen.
My hope falters. My eyes draw up to your solemn expression. Your dark brows are furrowed and your long hair falls in waves around your face. "Don't worry," you tell me, "we can have our own experience. Let me take you out tonight when the moon glows above the mountains. I know you'll enjoy it."
You are always able to comfort me and the idea of being beneath the stars with you is exciting and magical. You, yourself, are magical.
"Jimmy," I reach out. "Can we be alone for some time? I've missed so much of you."
You answer my request when you pull me up into your arms, leading me to the bedroom. The space is pale and nearly bare except for your decorations: two intricate rugs spread across the floor, candles on the nightstand by the full size bed, your books and music notes stacked neatly on the desk, and a sweater strewn across the bed.
"Come sit."
And I do, I curl around you as you rub my back. Tonight, we'll see the glow of the moon. Your face will shine in the light. It will be a spiritual sight.
For justangiem Thank you so much for waiting! I hope you enjoy <3
