Date: Fri, 27 Jun 2008 10:31:20 -0700 (PDT) From: Tim Stillman Subject: g/m young friends "Convocation" Convocation By Tim Stillman (For Daniel, and his always attuned delicate balance--a long overdue thank you-you are sadly missed and recalled with longing) I see them still, even though it often feel my mind is blind as wood. The colors are melted into an inordinately hot summer sun, giving then a bronze metallic sheen to the colors of that day, as well as to the colors of us. We are pauses in time. We live in a film projector from which grows Torque, the Italian prince, with thin fox-like face, lordly upraised eyebrows, tall and willowy, with such long arms and legs and little piano key colored toenails and fingernails, always away from us even when right there, always clothed, naked or no, a large long penis, just growing pubes, a body of ivory bones, his skin like mine and Tabia, always bronzed, always in that ineffable summer sweet sweat smell, as he looks over at Tabia, a young boy face, with shoe button bright wide eyes, always a smile on his lips, the goofy kid in class, while Torque was the regal one; but Tabia had more girlfriends than Torque for some reason, for, perhaps, Tabia was always so alive and fun and always a child girls could take by the hands and not be afraid of. Tabia has black hair, as does Torque, the Italian prince, and his body is lean but in a kind of little kid way though he is not a little kid; he has a lot of black pubic hair and is hung bigger than I and almost as large as Torque, as they are forever caught in the pool water which now in melted phrases of gone for good become golden water, as poured by gods from a long-ago time, when there were fleeces and mountain dragons and lovely lilting diamond pendant maidens crying dolefully in distress, and Tabia the court jester, the clown princelet, as though he wears his skin and sweet face as easily as God comports himself in eternal peace that nothing will ever alarm him, he will never age, he will never cry, he will never grow old, he will never be alone, and there is weeping now, but not them, and not I either, here in my moment in the rubber raft shaped like a canoe, all red and streaked with molested sunshine in the camera of the day's shot. To imagine being there, me, Tambor, my head filled thick with red hair that looks hellish colored now, and deservingly so, for I was a devil, even more than Tabia, far more than Torque, for I was always the sexual one, I was the one who convinced them one fine summer day to come here to the back of the house my parents owned but divorce and travels had moved them away, so I said, Torque and Tabia come take your excellent Italian clothes off, the shorts and the shirts and the sandals and play with me in any way at all at all. I still hear our voices at play, as I wish to put my hands in the light and bring us back and this time we shall stay and Tabia will never develop T.B. and die, in the long away, yesterday, and Torque will never become bitter and estranged from two wives that he shall hide in bottles and then needles, and I shall never--never mind--they are there again and have never left, as I float in the reddish rubber raft, a smirky smile attached to me as usual, not just my impish face, though not as imp as much as Tabia by a long shot, for in me there was a terrible seriousness; in me there were the jokes, the pranks, the whoopee cushions, the X-Ray Glasses, the trades of hamsters for sea monkeys from comic book orders, as I lie on my back, splashing water with my hands, naked as they, in my raft as the Italian prince dives in and his body, Torque in mid air, freeze, damn, why couldn't this be on DVD? So I could step my way through every inch of it backward and forward, slow and slower still, so I could live in it and could hold my dearest friends from what was to happen to them and what unknown will happen to them and to me tomorrow and the next day, but in this silent bright orange chrome world, thus, Torque dives in, and swims to me, as Tabia cannonballs in and straight to the bottom, not skimming the surface as of course Torque did so effortlessly, then Tabia shooting straight up out of the now greeny glowy golden bronze see through cellophane colors of the dull cold barriers of filmy plastic that cut off Tabia in a hospital bed, one cold wintry day, dying of T.B.--as though ashamed of him--but I pushed the cellophane plastic back, as Torque threatened to gut the first person who pulled them back--with what he would have done this, I've no idea..but it worked. And I prayed to the flimsy filmy brownish plastic, bring us back here to when we were boys and sex was so very forbidden and life was summer for boys as the two of them gathered round my raft and hanging their arms on it--there, look, I can see my penis just a bit as they rock the raft, and my skin is colored like strawberry now it seems, as I grin and push a hand, Tabia's no doubt, away from my penis as we talked of what I don't remember on that fine day, as giggles soundlessly sound, as the water and the raft make their silent slushing noises and their burbling noises, as then Tabia, and surprisingly Torque too, tried to turn the raft over, but I gamely fought them off--and did until-they won and I was naked in the water as Tabia pushed the craft away, as they took my arms and pulled me to the lip of the pool, oh god, my backside was so plump there and turns me on as I watch it--I think many a love affair would be undone if everyone admitted it was themselves who turned them on and not the other person--but philosophy for another day, for there is me, full backside exposed and Tabia is opening my cheeks--and I remember as the camera closes in tightly, as he puts his almost man sized dick, this angelic looking little boy face looking down at himself and rubbing in the amazement, his mouth and the silent giggles, as he pushes his dick into me-- Bucking up my hips, making the face on the other end of my body sigh and groan and close my eyes and feel the pain and the pleasure as I remember now and then Tabia all the way in, and how full and how disdaining and how unlike I had ever felt as a human frame before, began to go in and out of me, as I see now the left side interior of my ass cheek, as he bumps into me, his arms thrown out wide, as he exhibits the signs of a bicycle rider riding without any hands on the handle bars, and let's go totally insane, removing feet from the pedals as well, and it's a toy game with Tabia, his hormones surging, his pubic hair thick and bumping it and his large balls against me, as suddenly there is a tear spot in the film which I have mated back together with tape..It takes one two three four up to ten precious seconds before the film picture is on again-god how maddening, not to see every inch of it, to be deprived of one second from what keeps me alive at night and only half lonely and dead in the daylight which I have come for ovoid reasons to despair and despise, but here then, me still flat on my boy stomach still being fucked, how we loved to say that word that summer, all the time we said it; constantly cracking ourselves up with it; how we laughed, including me, for whom the imp and the pranks went away and I become the sour dour sad beyond sad man you see today, and if you look closely at me again there as camera starts and stops then with Torque spraddled at the pool lip, his long shapely golden bronze unreal color legs spread wide, as I am sucking him off, which is like saying I sucked off Michelangelo's David once upon a time. For his penis is long and thin and regal and he sighs as princes and princes waiting in the wings are supposed to sigh; Tabia's hair of black is not combed any particular or cut in any particular way, just a boy's hair cut, in and out of the barber shop-fey--doesn't matter, but Torque's hair cut is a now rainbowy color and is precisely razored on his forehead and cut sharply round his ears, which have little points to the top of them, which is why we knew he was otherworldly, of heraldry, and he knew we knew and lorded it over us in a very kindly way, always the gentlest boy of the three, once upon a time, and I am sucking his cock as I am being fucked. My legs now in the pool, my penis stiff in the venusian looking water, whatever that might call to mine, that metaphor, and Tabia is holding my hips and he goes in and I suddenly become in quick step the boy sitting on the pool lip with Torque sucking me off and doing it regally, as I look into all the sunshine in the whole world, as I put my hands on Torque's head of hair and feel him so warm and real so very much there as he has my penis in his mouth, as the camera goes to my face to catch me smiling redly great big, to catch my freckles almost bleached out by the sunshine but still there, all of us fading, this curious time capsule I let myself watch once a month and keep it safely and hermetically sealed and locked away, the key to which is in my pocket or my nightstand, wherever, awake or asleep, with dreams, nightmares, of its being stolen. The bullet cock heads, the hardness of them, the veins of them, the balls juggling back and forth, my hole opened and the side seen, the dancing eyes of all of us, the going crazy sex orgy of it, the film being old, the film having tears, the black lines going up and down more and more of them each time, it is watching perfect snow dreams being destroyed, melted in the heat of smarmy sunshine and summer, but this summer here, this was ours, and we went naked all we could that whole summer, and sexed in all sorts of combinations, how I remember their cocks and the taste and the saliva, and our bodies boy sex machines, our hands over every inch of each other, all but Torque, grabbing out at tits and asses, and here then Torque with his long hard veiny penis fucking me as I bend over and go down on Tabia in the then even ratty old falling apart lawn chair with its back and seat in brown and yellow squares with space between them, as I watch Torque do with such self-poise, his almond shaped eyes looking into the distance where the orange trees grew and imagining the fairy tale fate that would surely await him--oh Torque, oh god my beautiful Torque, if I could just reach into the screen, if only--and camera snaps a close up of Torque's cock in my ass as he pulls out the rubbery head of it as his cum bronzy color, bubbles in my between my ass cheeks as he pulls his penis now out of me, more so, so all the cum is out of him and all in and on me, as I keep sucking off Tabia, and here is the curious thing, I must have felt Torque back there and I must have felt him cum then rub it in-you would think a guy would remember something like that--was this not our first time?--but memory says and yet there I am blissfully sucking away as Torque walks away, naked, alone, into the shadows of grove trees, his tan back, his long tear drop ass cheeks, as I remember his perfect dive, his lovely ass, his back, his legs, the back of his head as he went down to magic, and there he goes off into the grass and then gone forever, a bullet in my soul, shaped like his bullet headed cock. And then Tabia gone in the next clip, walking also away, into forever, as I am alone, sitting naked in the lawn chair, masturbating for the camera-the color of the film so faded it looks as though I am made of used up sun beams, as I jerk my cock--I mean I really jerk it, so fast, I was such a show-off. Jerking it so fast every time I see this, I expect to see it come off in my hand--can't see my hand or my cock, they are going so fast, as I open my legs, spread wider, grin hugely as there is close up on my cock and its red gold bronze, as I offer it out from the me then to the me now-though the film is so faded at this point, I can not see the cum. Then my face again as I wink and smile, god; all that thick red hair. Then: To black as the end part of the film unreels, making a tapping sound. I turn off the projector. And though this is a hot, muggy late June night, it feels like it always feels after seeing the film that I reverse the spools and run it to the beginning, then so very carefully perform the ritual of putting it away, then pocketing the key, then put the projector away with the other four, all of which I keep in top form. That feeling of being 14. In the middle of naked summer--smiles to live forever--then suddenly sadness comes, like autumn sneaked in early.