History, Reality, and Eternity’s Kiss
By: Deneishia Jacobpito
Tags: LGBTQ, History, Spirituality, Love, Creative Writing

Exhausted, she lay stretched out beside me. One leg over the sheet giving me the best view of the rise of her hip and the dip of her waist. Her left arm reached toward me and her breath was slow and even. I glanced over at the upright piano commanding the room from the opposite wall and felt grateful for my life and my space. One bed, one curvy piano, and one curvy woman were all I needed in the world. Here, I was safe. Here I was wanted. Here, I was without pretense. I didn’t have to try to pass; passing for a woman, passing for a man, passing as normal.

I moved as gently as possible so that I wouldn’t disturb her sleep. When I moved she turned over leaving me a perfect view of her back and the dimples near the base of her spine. She was exquisite. Just a perfect specimen of all that was a woman. Lighting my cigar, I leaned against the headboard and daydreamed about what the future would be like. Would I ever be legally allowed to claim this woman as mine? Would I be able to buy a home and unite our family under one roof with one name? I lit the candle beside the bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the wall-mounted dressing mirror.

I lost myself in the glow of the candle flame reflected in the mirror. The flicker slowed to a solid burn and the flame grew in height. I continuously gazed at the flame in the reflection of the mirror. The sound of wind and rushing water filled my ears although there were no windows in the room and no water for miles. A voice whispered, “Come to me”. I continued to look in the mirror and shifted my gaze from the flame to the woman lying behind me. She was not the source of the voice. I felt nervous but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the mirror or the flame.

A chocolate-skinned goddess with flowing dreadlocks brushing her waist, ivory earrings, and a long white gown appeared in the mirror as clear as if she were on the other side of a window. I looked at the cigar in my hand, knowing full well it wasn’t filled with tobacco. Perhaps I shouldn’t have smoked so much of it. I didn’t expect the woman to still be in the mirror when I looked up again, however, she was.

“Come to me.” She said again, this time she also held out her hand. I reached for her before I could talk myself out of it. I was afraid but I was also very curious. I asked her where we were going and she paused. She looked as though she was trying to find the easiest way to explain and I felt her annoyance, like when I have to answer the questions of a curious child who I know will never understand.

“You have been summoned.” She said flatly. I wanted to ask more questions, but she wasn’t open to that. My vision was filled with moments like photographs rushing past in quick concession. I saw the police coming to padlock The Clamhouse and my beloved Swing street and their speakeasies growing silent in a few years. I saw riots in the streets of Harlem after police shot and killed Robert Bandy. Pictures and information from events that haven’t happened for me yet overloaded my senses. I was flooded with visions of more riots in the Village. It looked like the police were still closing our clubs and arresting us for men dressing like women and women dressing like men in 1969. Further, into the future I saw parades with us filling the streets. I saw the legal decree that allowed us to marry. I stopped and looked deep into the eyes of the goddess in the white dress.

“Yes, here you can legally marry if you choose.” She replied.

“Where are we going?” I asked again, trying to wrap my head around the information I received. My hope for the future overflowed my heart and I was anxious to know more of the wonderful things in store.

“The year 2020.” She flatly responded. I stared blankly. 95 years away from my caramel companion asleep in my bed. There must be so much freedom in the future. If they can marry and receive the same legal respect as anyone else. That alone would stop the overwhelming homelessness that happens when we get old. Disapproving families who wait for our partners to die and then claim the house and other property leaving us with nothing because we have no legal claim to our lives. It sickens me.

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

The moments and information slowed down and suddenly we were standing in a dark bedroom. A thin dark-skinned beauty in baggy jeans, a men’s button-down shirt tied above her waist, and a head wrap protecting her hair sat cross-legged in front of me. Her tears fell into an open journal haphazardly balancing on her lap. Beside her lay a still full open bottle of pills.

“Who is she? Why are we here? Is this what I think it is? Why? What do we do?” I threw questions in quick succession worried about what we were witnessing. I knew all too well the emotions that force someone like me to stare at a full body of pills while crying.

“She summoned you.” The goddess reiterated. She looked at me with more compassion. The gravity of the scene registered on my face.

“I don’t know what you mean. Who is she?” I began to shake out of worry and anger.

“She is you, rather, she is a daughter of your legacy.” She said. “She lit the candle and asked for the ancestors to hold her. She lives in a time where her government is more overt about trying to eradicate our children. She is told by her family that wanting to transition makes her an abomination and they are giving her the silent treatment. She has lost family and some friends because she was vulnerable enough to reveal who she is. She is deciding tonight if she will change her pronouns and go to the doctor to get the testosterone she needs to begin living as her most authentic self. If she can’t live her life with love, passion, and authenticity then she doesn’t want to live it at all.” She concluded.

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked.

“Your passion for life, the contentment you felt tonight performing, choosing a lover, feeling safe in your home, all of that will flow through her if you touch her. All that is required is that you let her feel your passion, that will ignite her own.” The goddess replied.

“So much has changed for her. She can hold hands in public, she can create the body that makes her feel correct. She can own property, adopt children, choose any career. Entertainment is my only career choice, the only place someone like me is accepted. Yet, with all of that, her life is the same as mine,” I commented as I touched the young woman’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be anything anyone wants you to be,” I whispered.

Her head bowed and she wrote what I whispered in her journal. I looked at the goddess and she nodded. I whispered, “You are not alone, you are not a mistake, you are loved,” and with that, she started to calm. The goddess placed her hand on my shoulder. Time converged. We stood as history, reality, and eternity in one space. I felt the goddess’ peace, I felt the younger woman’s anger, sadness, and fear begin to unravel and ease. I felt the hole in my heart heal and the emptiness replaced with love. The knowledge that all of the children of my legacy would find peace in their own lives and strength in their own time. I saw her become him and find love, prosperity, and peace.

I closed my eyes and basked in the convergence. When I opened my eyes, I was back in my apartment. The candle had burned down. My body began to shiver which prompted me to seek solace in the warmth of the body stretched next to me. I enveloped her completely. She was taller than me which allowed my face to fit perfectly between her shoulder blades. She stirred at the touch of my lips on her spine.

“Are you OK?” She asked sweetly, her voice low with fatigue and desire. I answered her with a kiss to her shoulder. I ran my tongue down her arm to the inner crease of her elbow. She rolled to her back and held my face in both of her hands. She locked her eyes on mine, her gaze filled with confusion and desire. I bowed my head and kissed her furrowed brow. I saw the young woman from the future reflected in the eyes of my love. I smiled and told them both,

“We will forever be OK.” and I sealed that promise with a kiss.