1) If you could tell me something,
anything, what would you say? Whisper it right now please, into the pale pink
folds of my ear. Afterward I will press imaginary snaps on my upper and lower
lips and conceal your secret forever. Or if you prefer, write it on parchment
with a fountain pen and hand-deliver or mail it to me. I’ll read the words and burn them immediately, inhaling the smoke till I cough.
2) If you were to show me
something, what might it be? I’m holding out my hand because I want you to take me there. Or, draw a picture of it. Maybe record it on film. I want to see. Really.
3) If you could give me something
to taste, one of the most wonderful things ever or your right-now-favorite-food, what item would you choose? Record the
recipe for me, or better yet, deliver the item or culinary creation to my porch in a
gift bag, snuggled in shimmery aqua tissue paper. Ring the bell and run, or
not. I could make coffee . . .
4) Is there something you want me
to touch—an item sleek and smooth, cool even, or softer than soft, maybe prickly
and dangerous? Bring it here please. We should examine it together, side by side.
5) What is the most interesting
fragrance you know? Is it sacred to you? Live and yellow as lemons? Smoky and
warm like radiant coals sequestered in greyed ash? Perhaps it's cloying but pristine lilies-of-the-valley? Warm and yeasty rolls in a basket under a checked cloth? Breathe
in through your nose and out through your mouth, across from and very close to
me.
(Okay
now, friends . . . don’t be shy. What are your five things?)
