Sleepwalk, by Eric Mazariegos

The time has frosted our memory into a state of eternal slumber, one in which they are purgatorily kept for ancestries until the blue specs of cataclysmic collusions within our mind are forever lost into the ether that surrounds us.
        It has been three long days and the earth is starting to feel customary against my skin. It is coarse and wet, and I feel as if it has somewhat become a part of my flesh. The leaves under me poke and prickle, the chunky dirt has accumulated into a viscous clod surrounding my body’s imprint. From my ears down to my heel, I can feel moist dirt enveloping me and keeping my body put. I cannot move so much as to feel for your touch. You are so far away from me but I use all my strength to try and comfort your cold fingers. A bug crawls on the finger I extend towards you. I have no intent to shake it off; I have no strength to shake it off. I let it be.
        I look up to the sky. Thankfully, we are at least somewhere where we can look at it. It has become night. I would not know the time right now if my life depended on it, but if I had to half-consciously guess, I would say it is just about midnight. The stars are so clearly visible to us. There is a placidity to how they stay afloat among each other; each one completely independent on its own yet grossly intertwined with each and every other. My eyes start to water from not blinking. I am surprised at this since it has been too long since I have had anything to drink. Maybe it is the rain coming down on us that fills my pupil with blurry, azure visions of something infinitely more beautiful than the place where we are now. I do not know.
        I feel emotional laying here with you. You stopped talking yesterday. I assumed it was because of the lack of nutrition. It could also be because of the blood loss. I miss your voice so much right now. When we crashed I heard you scream but it soon turned into something beautiful. We were together at last in true unity. You and I were together, at an imminent yet hopelessly hopeful loss for our lives. Yet here we are, affirmation so close we can almost taste it.
         I am imagining that we are in bed together. I have woken up and you are still in your gorgeous slumber. I look outside, and it is the same shade of blue that it is tonight. The stars are all the same and they have become one amalgamation of white against black indiscernible by my vision alone. I turn my head towards you. You are turned away but I grasp your body so softly as if we were hugging face to face. You do not wake up, but only produce a tender movement of your hips and then your legs reposition themselves, intertwining within mine. I feel your heat emanating onto my stomach and chest. Your head is in front of mine, yet what I see is only a soft silhouette accompanied by sporadic strands of your blonde hair. I can see the outline of your ear against the night sky. I close my eyes and fall back asleep, my arm wrapped around your stomach, hand tucked into yours.
        Now though, you have stopped replying to my calls. You do not even cough anymore. Your voice was the only thing keeping me from doing something completely irrational. Why do you not respond? Please respond. The bug on my finger bites me, and I jerk suddenly onto my side. I am now resting on my forearm, looking unto you. Your hand was so close to mine, or at least I thought it was. Now that I am turned in your direction I see that it was too far, I would have never been able to reach it. These past hours, you comforted me with movement yet now you are motionless. Your body is turned towards the night sky as mine was formerly. But what I see now is no longer the person I know. You have started to decompose into the earth that surrounds you. I imagine the same is happening to me. I see beyond the peeling flesh though. I see beyond the dirt on your face that makes it black. I see beyond the leaves that are upon your body like sprinkles on a birthday cake. I see what I saw thirteen years ago when we first met.
        Many hours have now passed. I cannot feel my body anymore. I do not know if the bug is still gnawing at my fingers or not. The earth around me has now completed its coalescence into the foundation of my flesh. I want to look at you more, but my eyelids are getting far too heavy. I always thought it was a cliche saying, but now I feel it is all too true. Your figure starts to fade into my vision like the night sky before it. Your eyelashes, your freckles, your lips and eyes, all start to become constellations within my pupil. I am no longer sure what I am looking at; I have slipped far out of consciousness into a hypnagogic state of torpor. Are you really you? What is this light I see? You do not respond.
        But something else catches my attention. I am not sure if it is real or not, or just within my waning conscious, but within the last strand of my memory, I hear something. Can you hear it? It sounds like the high notes of Sleepwalk. It was the first song that we danced to. Do you remember? Na na na na... It was our very first date. It may have been the second. I am so sorry that I do not remember. It does not matter. We made our way back to my house and went up to my room. Do you remember? You sat on my bed and I put on the record. You looked up to me and told me that you loved the song. I looked at you with awe, as your eyes swelled and glistened. I could not contain myself and told you that I loved the song as well, but with more vigor, said that I loved you. You got up very slowly and started to walk towards me like some angelic figure. I was slightly dazed when you put your hands in mine. I looked at you, we were at eye level. I could feel your warm breath hit my face with such gentleness and care. I was so shocked, yet you comforted me. We started to sway back and forth, movements in sync with our human reverberations. I looked down and saw our feet in coordination with our movement, it was beautiful. Don’t you remember?
        I can imagine what we looked like from the outside of my bedroom window to passersby. I look up into that window, so vividly in contrast to the night sky; yellow light coming from beneath glass borders into the dark environs. There I see two silhouettes in each other’s loving grasp. The two spectres are very close to each other, almost one being, and are dancing to the music. Ding! Ding! Na na na na...

        The ballad is booming and on a repeating loop. I dance the night away with you, in your embrace for hours and hours and hours and hours, until we are too tired to dance any longer.