"In every important way, we are such secrets from each other. " - M. Robinson
They both have snotty noses. I wipe them with the sleeve of my shirt. Ives takes small bites of a grape and juice is on his chin and he pulls bits from his mouth with his fingers and pushes them into Gilbert's mouth. Grape flesh. Gilbert smiles and his cheeks fill with the fruit and his cheeks are fat balls. Ives is in his pyjamas. When I kiss him and then his brother their skin under my lips is different. They smell different. Nabokov says Lolita is "biscuity" smelling. That word comes to my mind when I kiss Gilbert. Flour and cream and salt.
I keep thinking of Ives feeding Gilbert regurgitated grapes. The ceremony of it. Like a story I heard about Leonard Cohen trying to revive a baby bird who fell from its nest. Like the eucharist. Ives says "Sometimes I feed Gilbert." He says "I love feeding Gilbert." They both have sticky faces.