It was when I saw you in Dangerous Liaisons that I knew. That man. That voice. Do you know that The Guardian said your voice is a “reedy, faintly orgasmic drawl.” I could have said that. Also, that thing you do with your lips and teeth that is sexy; you suck them in provocatively. You did as you looked directly at Uma Thurman who was really, in my mind, a lush, more perfect, less gawky sixteen-year-old stand-in for myself in our seduction.
Then, for awhile, you played maniacs.
Why did you do this, John, I mean, Mr. Malkovitch -- it turns me on further still to know that you and I are play-acting. You are ridiculously still sexy you. I am a sexy MILF journalist interviewing you for Vanity Fair. Should we continue our interview or are you sufficiently aroused? Not yet? Is this because you are an old(er) man, going to flab, and nearly hairless? John, John, so what? So what?!? Let my friends laugh as they drink in Demi Moore’s husband whose name I can’t think of. I am a woman of a certain age who can work with what you have left. Manipulate the remains.
I want to manipulate you; since you have played so many crazy insane gun-toting manipulators. But what I want to know is why John? Why? When, in your career, what you are best at is stage love?
Well, not love, exactly: the heady holding it out like a biscuit for a dog and then snatching it away. I want you to do that to me. If you can, please, do that to me if you still have the strength also put on French silk stockings and knickers and rouge your pallid cheeks! My love! Will you not now bring your (formerly full, bow-shaped) mouth to meet mine and then turn away, leaving me artfully flushed. Absolutely unsatisfied. Mad with desire.
Do you know how close we came to consummating? My brother in law serviced your copying needs at Kinko’s in Harvard Square, Cambridge and I also lived in Cambridge at the time. We were within miles of each other, maybe even frequentors (at different times) of the same cheese shop on Huron Street. Must I just yearn? Must I just hold the copy paper you autographed “To Elizabeth” to my heaving, post-pregnancy bosom and watch only the parts you are in of Being John Malkovich?