Solstice - Communion
Later I see a Moslem family, I'm not sure of the country, but 3 generations of women with their heads and hair wrapped up in dark shawls. They are laughing. Loudly. The girl reminds me of me at that age, gangly but sure of herself. She laughs the most. Throws her head behind her and stamps her foot. "Oh, it must be them." The apartment behind me holds the laughter. That comforts me.
The next morning I wake again to the laughter. LOUD. It lasts a long time. I can't go back to sleep, just listen. It's coming from the floor beneath me. The couple. It sounds like he's burying his head in her belly and blowing imaginary bubbles, like to an infant - I imagine. He is making goofy faces. Walking around the room like an ape. He's making some kind of apelike sounds, but they are not making love. They are making love to each other with their laughter. I have never felt so alone as at that moment. What do they have to laugh? Why does it last so long. A good hour. A good hour. How does one sustain that? What must it be like to have someone so kissed with good humor? With my humor. Why can't I laugh like that? Wake to that healing mirth? Be touched by that? Touch another? Give in to that divine inspiration, that holy communion?
What will it take to win your laughter?