in the rain in black boots and a velvet blazer, lipstick and an umbrella, i accidentally walk down fairy-lights-bananajellybean-treestouchinthemiddle-st., of last week's adventures with the dragon boats and sea snake centipedes feeding into the pier and cheers carried straight to the tiny bones of our heightened ear, across above dark water to our open bodies, oh explorer love of mine.
we scale the water rocks, artificial in the harbour, little mountain goats clop cross chipped rocks
to bend at the knees and kiss by the shore.
we gaze cross the dark water. conspiracy.
this street is abandoned, we stand in the intersection. 'in ten years these will be million dollar condos.'
and my bed is full, i am tired and happy j'adore, and you are young and i ignore it -
you turn away from me in sleep.
'this happens every time'
communion, separation.
and our backs touch cold, both want different what the other will give. he will love the whole goddamn world, and i love the world that carries him in it. abdicate, and exile.
the street's changed now, it barely rains. chilled some, i march not dance, the tulips wilt heroically. there, that curb, where we laughed and enjoyed the evening and each other has no memory of our extravagance - it will exist without us evidence-less, thankfully. this street leads me home often.
i shall try and be more like the world, to feel such childish treads more lightly.
i shall try and emulate its self-evidence; wasn't i all before you?
i shall try and coax out its silence; i will become its silence.
i shall retreat back into the world's enduring indifference, and rename the streets as i walk through the new
and even my maps, quick-drawn, forget you in a stride.
