Paper Lover

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Paper Lover

A mini opera

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1.

Dusk descends on the desert. As the skies dim, the Leather Lizard strokes his finely made coat, vivid and new from the shedding. Its scaly beauty is strange and rough; full of tiny polished pebbles and an alien gleam.

LIZARD:

If she knew my limbs were sheathed in leather,

My kisses like sandpaper

If she knew how I tilt my head

at the sun and let it burn me,

Lie in the scorching grit and feel it turn me

Into scales and tail and terror, would she

Still love me?

If she could hear my breath at night

Rattling and whispering like bone-dust

Full of cold reptilian lust

Would she lie next to me?

I would rather hide my skin in paper

Wrap my words in ink

Whisper loving things and let them sink

Into her dreams of me.

Lizard love is what I give;

A love on which you cannot live.

MOLE:

Lizard love is a mystery

Your words lead to my destiny.

Across the land, the Restless Mole responds to the Leather Lizard’s letters. She was born in darkness and, like most moles, is half-blind. But her vision – and her desire – goes beyond what she can physically see.

MOLE:

My eyes may be full of clouds

And my nights and days the same

Yet I would be touched by claws beyond the damp,

Beyond the earth. A tongue untamed

Speaks to me through paper and promises

Sand-speckled words formed into kisses.

You feed me constantly

But not enough.

I must see you, eventually;

I love you. Believe me.

So let me cross the land, and water too

Let your paper trail lead me to you.

_____________________________

2.

Morning. The Leather Lizard watches the dust motes rise early and begin their languid dance against the purple skies. They mock him with traces of her scent.

LIZARD:

The blind are brave

And the brave are blind

And one way or another,

We all shall find

Those we deserve;

Not those we love.

I am not worthy of your bravery

Not worthy of your grace

Not deserving of the veil

That clouds your childish gaze

So why do you crawl

And swim and grow tall

While my courage grows small?

Why do you seek me

And love me and need me?

Meanwhile the Restless Mole inches her way determinedly toward her final destination. She sniffs the air occasionally and smiles when she hears a whisper, a rattle, that might be him.

LIZARD:

My sandy lips will wound you

MOLE:

Your strange, sweet tongue will woo me

LIZARD:

My sharp tail will repulse you

MOLE:

Your every twitch will charm me

LIZARD:

My cool hard skin will make you

Wish you’d stayed away

MOLE:

Why should I not say

(TOGETHER):
And you won’t be / That I’m in love

So in love / Yes, in love

With me / With you.

_____________________________

3.

High noon in the mountains. It seems ludicrous for a soft-bodied, half-blind mole to be here; but here she is. She clambers onto a ridge where a smattering of tough greens and wildflowers grow, and looks to the unforgiving landscape before her.

MOLE:

Not far now. I hear you on the wind

A susurrus of painted kisses soaking time and again

Into precious paper laced with sand and lined with love.

Your attitude, reptilian;

Your poetry, full of passion.

Soon I’ll be right behind you;

I cannot see, but I will find you.

Somewhere else, on a dead gnarled tree, the Leather Lizard perches and sighs, knowing he cannot stop her.

LIZARD:

Our feelings were never meant to flee

The borders of each letter.

Here beneath the arid wind, I

Cannot be your protector.

MOLE:

They say my courage is misplaced

And my dreams full of poison;

Spineless, crawling in the dark,

They knew I wouldn’t listen.

LIZARD:

You wish to die bravely

And leave me to cry?

MOLE:

You wish to live easy

And blinder than I?

LIZARD:

I wish that both of us live long.

MOLE:

I wish to live while love is strong.

LIZARD:

You’re a child who thinks she can have it all.

MOLE:

You are weak, and scared, and small.

LIZARD:

Ignorant fool of the underground!

MOLE:

Shrinking, scaly, two-tongued clown!

LIZARD:

I wish to the gods we’d never met.

MOLE:

You’re an idiot I should just forget.

As they fling their passionate insults, they don’t realise they’re getting closer – until his head emerges from a scraggly bush, and hers from behind a sandy dune.

Both stare at each other, then away, then back again. The Leather Lizard blinks as if seeing with new eyes; the Restless Mole breathes the air deeply.

MOLE:

We meet at last.

LIZARD:

Well, that was…fast.

MOLE:

How does it feel now, letter writer?

LIZARD:

Better than expected, paper lover.

They stay that way for a long moment, each one out of words and searching for new ones. The sun starts to fall. Silence descends.

_____________________________

4.

Evening. The desert is bare save for two small figures half-buried by the shifting sands, content in the curve of each other’s bodies.

MOLE:

If I died tonight counting every scale on your belly

If I spent my last few seconds recounting every word in every letter

If I breathed my last breath so it would mingle with yours

And felt my last drop of warmth melt into your pores

I would die happy.

LIZARD:

If I lived my last hour with my face in your fur

If the last thing I felt was the curve of your limbs

If I made my last vision the moon in your eyes

And died with my tail in your deep dark crevices,

I would leave blissful.

The edges of the desert dune begin to crinkle. It seems two giant hands are folding and tweaking the scene – which we realize is made of painted paper, like a most intricate origami piece.

~

Transition into the following scene. We see an old man, an artist, at his table making creatures and stories out of paper. Leftover cuttings, stray shreds, paints and various paraphernalia litter the cozy space. In the middle of all this is two familiar origami figures: a handsomely made lizard and a velvety-grey mole.

OLD MAN:

Ah, what a fine thing it is

to tell stories through paper.

To close gaps, cross continents and travel through paper.

To bring paradise closer, to make dreams realer,

To make happy endings for lovers through paper.

Ah, life is a foolish bet;

I’ve chased love only to exchange it for regret

I’ve been through too many bad endings to count.

But as a lover of paper, I can turn them around.

He smiles wistfully and gets up to turn off the lights. The room darkens until we see the remaining lamp shining on the paper lizard and mole. Then the switch is flicked. The scene goes dark.

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